


Procrastination and Midnight Ficlets

by youbuggme



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-31 14:05:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 90
Words: 79,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6473005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youbuggme/pseuds/youbuggme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of GoT/ASOIAF ficlet prompts on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Talk Less [Throbb]

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've had trouble staying focused and sleeping lately so I figured working on really short prompted ficlets would allow me an outlet to write and help me get back into my writing mood.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: ive seen u reblog som hamilton stuff- maybe one where robb likes hamham but then theon becomes obsessed???
> 
> Songs Mentioned: What'd I Miss, Non-Stop, My Shot, Helpless, You'll Be Back, and Burn. These are all from the musical Hamilton which I highly recommend.

“ _France is following us to revolution, there is no more status quo_.”

Groggily, Robb awoke to the low mutterings of his boyfriend. Turning over in the bed Robb looked to see Theon sitting up against the headboard, ear buds plugged in and the soft glow of his cell phone, a bright gold and black album cover being displayed.

“ _But the sun comes up and the world still spins._ ”

Robb peeked at the wall clock and bit back a groan upon seeing it was four in the morning.

“ _I helped Lafayette draft a declaration, Then I said, ‘I gotta go.’ I gotta be in Monticello-_ ”

Robb administer a sharp jab into Theon side, causing him to jump in shock. Theon blinked, looking down at Robb with a sheepish grin as he paused his music and pulled out a single ear bud.

“Shit, did I wake you up?”

“No shit,” Robb grumbled as he buried his face into the pillow. “Do you have to sing out loud? It’s the middle of the night.”

A delighted smirk came to Theon’s face. “ _Can we confer, sir?_ ” Upon seeing Robb’s darkening glare, Theon dropped his smirk. “Sorry, couldn’t sleep and it’s catchy. I blame you.”

“I regret showing you that damn musical,” Robb moaned loudly into his pillow. This wasn’t the fifth night in a row he had been serenaded by the darn musical. Don’t get him wrong, Robb loved it and listened to it on his way to work, but Theon seemed to _really_ enjoy it. So much that he referenced, hummed, sang, and joked about the musical more times than not.

“Would you feel better if I sang your favorite song?” Theon teased.

“No-” but it was too late for Theon was already in a new song.

“ _I am not throwing away my shot! I am not throwing away my shot! Yo, I’m just like my country, I’m young scrappy and hungry and I’m not-_ ”

“Theon!”

“Oh, something else?” Theon was laying fully beside him now, an arm slug over Robb’s back and reeling him in closer. “ _Helpless! Look into your eyes, and the sky’s the limit, I’m helpless! Down for the count, and I’m drownin’ in ‘em-_ ”

“I swear, if you keep singing, I’m going to strangle you!”

“Or,” Theon leaned in close so that his lips just barely grazed Robb’s ear, “you can _wait for it._ ”

“Why are you torturing me? Isn’t there anything else you can do? Any other subject you can-”

“ _And, no, don’t change the subject! ‘Cause you’re my favorite subject! My sweet, submissive subject! My loyal, royal subject! Forever and ever and ever and-_ ”

“That’s it!” Robb pushed Theon off the bed and threw his pillow down to the floor as well. “You can sleep on the floor, the couch, the office, anywhere else but here.”

Silence finally made its way back into the bedroom, but of course that would have been too easy.

Very quietly, Theon sang softly, “ _With only the memories, of you when were mine. I hope that you buuuuuuuurn._ ”


	2. Snowflakes [Jon/Ygritte]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Prompt thing: Ygritte and Jon kissing in the snow

“Thank you for walking me home,” Ygritte knocked her hip against Jon’s, his hand tightened over her hip and she squeezed his ass with the hand that was sitting snuggly in his back pocket. He looked down at her with a raised eyebrow.

“We live together, idiot.”

“So?” Ygritte smirked as she pressed up against him, seeking out his body heat on the cold winter night. “Think of it as role play of sorts.”

Jon huffed an amused laugh as he looked up at the sky. A light dusting of snow was floating from the night sky. It clung to his eyelashes and hair, showing the stark contrast in color. He glanced over at Ygritte to see snowflakes sprinkled in her kissed-by-fire hair as well. Her green scarf had been pulled up over her mouth and past her nose.

Jon stopped their walking and faced her. Ygritte looked up at him, her blue-grey eyes dancing in delight. “What, Snow?”

“Nothing,” he reached up and pulled down the scarf so it hung loosely around her neck. Her nose was bright red from the cold and her tongue darted out to her pink lips to wet them. Jon swallowed as a mischievous look came to her face. “Just enjoying the moment.”

“How incredible sentimental of you,” Ygritte mused as she took a step closer.

“Shut up,” Jon grumbled but pulled her closer regardless.

Ygritte reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to meet her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut as warmth spread through her body, starting at her lips and reaching all the way to her toes. If the snow where to touch her bare skin, she was sure that it would not only melt, but _sizzle_ on contact.

She grinned into the kiss and Jon’s tongue pressed gently into her mouth; his hands gripped her hips and pulling her closer, one sliding to her lower back. Ygritte returned the kiss with equal fervor, one of her hands burying into his dark locks, pulling insistently, and the other rubbing circles at the base of his neck.

“Let’s get inside and _warm up_ ,” Ygritte cackled at the rising color on Jon’s cheeks that she was positive had nothing to do with the frigid temperatures.


	3. Midnight Snack [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Prompt- Throbb, midnight snack

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Theon looked up from the counter, guilt and cookie crumbles covering his face as he met Robb’s searching river blue eyes. He hastily wiped his face of the crumbles, but it was too late. Robb had seen enough to know what exactly his boyfriend was doing in the middle of the night in their dark kitchen.

“Nothing,” Theon muttered, dryly swallowing, probably to get rid of the taste from his mouth. Like he could still cover up what he had been up to.

“’Doesn’t look like nothing,” Robb took a step forward. Theon remained rooted in his spot, watching the red head slowly approach the kitchen. “Want to try again?”

“I was having a snack, that’s all.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Theon knew the whole truth would not end well. The look on Robb’s face confirmed it.

“A snack of what?” Robb took another dangerous step into the kitchen. Theon tried to hide the platter from his view. “It better not be those cookies I baked this afternoon for Rickon’s bake sale tomorrow.”

Robb entered the kitchen; the platter came into full view. Theon instantly began talking, trying to defend his actions and soften the blow. “It was only two! Barely even enough for one to notice any were gone and-”

“You could literally have anything else in the house,” Robb cut in smoothly. “I made fifty. Now we only have forty five.”

Theon frowned, his eyebrows scrunching in confusion and pinching together. “Dumbass, did you fail basic math? I only have two-” The guilty blush on Robb’s face cut Theon off and explained it all in one look. A smirk came to Theon’s face. “Well, well, well, look at what we have here.”

“Shut up,” Robb walked up toward him and shoved him playfully. He grabbed another cookie in the process. At Theon’s raised eyebrows, Robb shrugged. “What’s one more? The damage is already done. What else could happen?”

“I feel like those are going to be your last famous words,” Theon grinned, but grabbed a cookie for himself too. Together they tapped their cookies together in mock-cheers before each taking a bite. Theon closed his eyes at the sweetness of it all, Robb moaned slightly from beside him. “You really out did yourself, Stark.”

“You know we are going to have to make more before tomorrow.”

“Good thing we have a 24 hour supermarket down the street.”


	4. Metamorphosis [Bran/Meera]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Prompt- Meera taking Bran to the local pond to look at frogs and tadpoles to cheer him up?

“Come on, where are we going?” Bran groaned, his arms straining to push his wheelchair through the thick grass over uneven ground. Meera had offered to help but Bran had sharply turned her down. He was always a little sensitive about it around this time of the year.

“It’s a surprise,” Meera snapped back. Normally, she’d try to be a bit softer, but Bran had complained the whole way over and her patience had worn a _bit_ thin. So here they were.

Bran didn’t say anything else as they came to the edge of the pond. They were at the local park, a place the two, previously three or sometimes four when Rickon joined, of them hung out. Usually, they stuck to the paths, manicured lawns and paved areas, Bran’s wheelchair proving to be a little too difficult to take through the rougher terrain.

Meera silently plopped down onto the ground, her legs crossed and her knees close to the pond’s edge. She looked up at Bran and silently ordered him to join her. While he silently fussed, he did slide himself from the chair and onto the ground. He used his wheelchair’s wheel as a brace and he tucked his legs off to the side so they wouldn’t get wet.

“Why are we here?” Bran asked after close to twenty minutes of silence.

“It’s too loud anywhere else,” she murmured, drawing up her knees to her chest.

Bran could agree with her on that. Between everyone making a commotion about his disability when ( _come on people!_ ) he’d been dealing with it for a little over ten years now and everyone throwing looks of pity and sorrow Meera’s way for the good part of the past year, it was getting too much. For both of them.

“Besides,” Meera spoke up again, “you mentioned something about frogs the other day.”

A smile, probably one of the first of the day, came to Bran’s face and his eyebrows scrunched together. “I did?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed. “If you look closely, there are tadpoles here.”

Using his arms to hold himself up, Bran leaned to look into the water and sure enough there was a little swarm of tadpoles swimming just beneath the murky water’s surface. Entranced, Bran followed them with his eyes. After a moment, he glanced over to see Meera looking up toward the sky, watching the afternoon clouds instead.

“You know-” Bran leaned against his chair again, but now that he knew the tadpoles were there, he could see their movements clearly “-there are some breeds that it takes three years for them to change from tadpoles into frogs and toads.”

Meera let out a puff of air from her nose. “Sometimes those things take time.”

Bran knew that statement had much more weight to it than just tadpoles and frogs. “Yeah,” he agreed in the end.

Neither of them spoke up again, each of them content with their own individual tasks. Bran could watch the tadpoles swim in their schools and ponder them changing, graduating from the water and moving onto land. Meera kept her eyes to the sky. Bran could only imagine what was going through her mind, but he imagined it had something to do with a boy would probably die too young.

While neither of them was in a place to truly be happy, it was the first time in a long while since they felt _content_ and that was enough. Each of them could savor the peace, even if it was only momentary.  


	5. Tension [Sansaery]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Sansa/Margaery – school stress :)

“When’s the last time you’ve eaten something?” Sansa loomed over Margaery, arms crossed tightly over her chest. A worried, but stern look was planted on her face.

To Margaery’s credit, she barely flinched at the sudden disturbance in her studying. Hell, her eyes barely even left her notes. _Revolution and Reaction: Political Thought from Kant to Nietzsche_ wasn’t exactly a course that she could just bullshit her way through.

So engrossed in her notes, Margaery either misheard Sansa’s question or ignored it in favor of reading through the list of political philosophies. Sansa sighed tiredly and uncrossed her arms. Thankfully, _both_ Loras and Willas had warned her of this _habit_ of Margaery’s when they first started dating three years ago. Sansa was used to it by now. It took a special touch to coax Margaery back into the real world and out of her head space.

Gently, Sansa planted both her hands on either one of Margaery’s shoulders. The woman barely even registered the touch. That was okay though. Over the years, Sansa had acquired a nice little archive of ways to get to Margaery.

Step One: Massage the muscle. Not only did this tactic allow for Sansa to begin chipping away at her girlfriend’s stress, but it also brought attention to the tension in her shoulders. Tension Margaery probably didn’t even notice until that moment.

Margaery paused her reading before settling into Sansa’s touch. It wasn’t enough to deter her from her studying. Come on, her final was in twenty hours. She needed all the time should could, but Sansa’s hands sure felt _heavenly_.

Step Two: Reason and Logic. As much as Sansa was a romantic at heart, feeling and emotion were not going to pull Margaery from her work. Realism would. Analytical and critical thinking would. Feeling and emotion were what would get her to stay away, but that was just getting ahead of herself. Sansa could see that Margaery’s attention to the notes in front of her had already begun to waiver.

“You have to eat,” Sansa whispered in Margaery’s ear.

“’Not hungry,” Margaery muttered back. Her eyes were locked on her notes, but hardly absorbing a thing.

“Doesn’t matter,” Sansa squeezed her shoulders for emphasis. “Do you want to pass out from hunger and exhaustion and then be ill-prepared for the test?”

Margaery narrowed her eyes at the notes. “I’m not going to pass out.”

Even if Sansa could see her girlfriend’s face, she was 97% certain there was a cute little pout locked on her lips.

“Sure, sure,” Sansa waved off, letting her lips drag over the shell of Margaery’s ear, “but isn’t it also true that after 90 minutes your mind turns off and studying becomes ineffective.”

“That’s true,” Margaery murmured, her fingers tracing the outline of her book. “But this is cramming there is a difference.”

“Don’t you also need this information for the next semester?”

Margaery paused her ministrations before sighing loudly and fully leaned back in her chair. Sansa didn’t stop her movements on Margaery’s shoulders until her girlfriend looked up and their eyes locked.

“What’d you make for dinner?”

Step Three: Bribery. All it took was a little chicken broth and some chopped up carrots, homemade of course.

“Soup,” Sansa leaned over Margaery to kiss her while simultaneously closing her textbooks.

Margaery didn’t even notice as she finally let go of all the stress and tension from her body and kiss her back.

Step Four: Affection. It had yet to fail her.


	6. Hello, Kitten [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr user dasego: Would you write prompt 26 with Throbb? 
> 
> 26: Someone keeps printing out cute cat pictures/messages on my wireless printer and I’m determined to find out whom.

“No,” Robb sighed, pulling the sheet of paper over to his side of the desk, “you have to carry the two.”

“Can’t you just do it for me?” Arya groaned. “Math is boring as shit.”

When she had shown up at Robb’s college dorm, she was hoping that he would just _do_ the problems for her. Apparently, she went to the wrong brother for that. Her puppy eyes worked a whole lot better on Jon. Unfortunately, Robb was much better at calculus.

“Language,” Robb tutted lightly, passing the math worksheet back.

Arya had barely pressed her pencil to the paper when suddenly the printer to her left sounded. Arya blinked, looking at it in surprise before turning to Robb. The look on his face could only be described as pure vexation.

“Robb?” Arya asked cautiously. Her brother wasn’t often so…irritated and exasperated.

“I swear,” he was up and out of the chair, stalking toward the printer, pulling out the finished product. “It better not be-” Apparently his findings were not to his satisfaction. “It’s another fucking cat picture!”

Arya blinked. “Excuse me?”

Robb pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead and showed her the picture. It was of a black and white kitten playing with a red ball of yarn. On the very bottom of the picture in the white space, someone wrote, _Better luck next time, kitten ;)_

Arya raised her eyebrows as a silent urge for Robb to elaborate.

He sighed, sinking back into his chair and setting the piece of paper upside down so he didn’t have to see it. “Some asshole has been using my wireless printer.”

“I gathered that much,” Arya cocked her head, flipping the paper back over and pointed at the typed words. “Kitten?”

Robb flushed. “After the tenth photo, I hung a notice on the cork board down the hall. I just politely told them to stop.”

“And?”

“They started adding notes,” Robb muttered bitterly. “We’ve kind of been going back and forth for a while now. I’ve been trying to figure out _who this fucking is_ , but I’ve basically hit a dead end. Now they are just playing with me. They sent me shit in the middle of the night with taunting messages.”

“Like?”

Robb bit his lip. “Sometimes they just say ‘hi’ or ‘are you up?’ I’ve gotten a few compliments though…”

“Sounds like they are flirting,” Arya hummed as she watched color rise in his cheeks. “How long as this been going on?”

“Since the beginning of the semester.”

“ _Two months_?” Arya cackled. “Oh my, someone has it bad for you.” Robb didn’t look convinced. “Oh, come on! If someone is going out of their way to fuck with you this badly, they have to either hate you or are madly in love with you. Do you need me to call Sansa as a more credible expert to verify?”

Robb scratched the back of his head. “Could they think of a better way to go about it?”

Arya shrugged, “You aren’t exactly the best at picking up hints.”

Robb glared but after a heated stare down, folded. “Got any advice on how to approach this?”

“Respond,” Arya rolled her eyes like it was the most obvious thing. Robb didn’t look convinced so she continued, “And ask to meet.”

He looked unsure, but Arya didn’t care. She grabbed the red sharpie from his desk and passed it to him. Grabbing the sharpie, Robb uncapped it and let it hover over the paper for a long moment. Finally, he seemed to come up with an idea of what to write and scribbled down a memo.

“I’m going to go and post it.” Robb didn’t let Arya see it as he left his dorm. She waited patiently for him to come back and when he did all he did was gesture to the homework assignment he was supposed to be helping her with.

It was an hour later that they finished up the assignment. Arya could tell that Robb was distracted though, his eyes constantly going back to the printer. She was packing up her stuff when it finally started going again. Each of them abandoned their tasks and Robb shot over to the printer. Pulling out the sheet, Robb flushed a brilliant shade of pink.

“Well?”

He showed her the piece of paper. It was yet another kitten, a tabby in the garden. At the bottom was a three digit number. A dorm room number.

While Arya had never quite been the person to find romantic ventures interesting, she was highly amused by this stranger’s tactics. Plus, it had been a while since her brother had been on a damn date. It was long overdue.

“Well, let’s go!” Arya was up, grabbing her bag in the process.

“You’re not coming with me for this,” Robb rolled his eyes.

Arya sneered, “Like I want to see you being seduced by a stranger. Dad’s here anyways, now _let’s go_.”  

Arya hung by Robb’s side until they reached the dorm which turned out to be four doors down from Robb. Arya stayed and watched as Robb cautiously knocked on the door, his other hand crinkling the cat photos.

They both heard the door unlock and Robb sent Arya a look that essentially said “Get lost.” Arya did as she was instructed, but she walked slowly enough for her to catch, “Hello, _kitten_.”


	7. Furtive Meeting [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: theon + Robb, + a secret relationship in high school???

“He’s a dick,” Jon hissed as they exited the school. Robb rolled his eyes, already knowing where this conversation was heading. On Jon’s other side, Samwell Tarly shyly nodded in agreement.

“Just because you guys don’t like each other, doesn’t mean he is a dick,” Robb defended.

“I don’t know why you bother defending him,” Jon sneered. “Do you remember last year when you two fought? You two barely talk and _I’m your brother_.”

“The fight was a misunderstanding,” Robb waved off. “Honestly, we are cool now.”

“I’ve noticed,” Jon’s voice was dripping with contempt. “I can’t believe you are _nice_ to him.”

“I let him borrow an eraser, calm down,” Robb groaned. Sam chuckled quietly.

“Well,” Sam interrupted, “Robb is nice to everyone.”

“It’s called being a decent person and not an asshole,” Robb looked at Jon pointedly. They stepped out of the building and Robb paused. Blinking, he patted his pockets. “Shit.” Sam and Jon both stopped. “I think I left my wallet in my last class. I’m just going to run back and get it. Hopefully no one stole it.”

“Want us to come with?” Sam offered, looking concern.

“No,” Robb waved off. “I’ll meet you at the car. It’ll take me ten minutest tops. I’m sure it is there.”

Hesitantly, Jon and Sam shrugged it off and headed toward the parking lot. Robb pivoted on his heel and raced back into the school, making a beeline to his history class. The halls were already empty, but Robb double checked it was deserted before slipping into the classroom.

The door had barely clicked shut before Robb was crowded against said door. A pair of hands came to hold his hips, already dipping underneath his shirt to touch skin, and a hot set of lips pressed against his. Robb instantly wrapped his arms around the person before him, one hand coming around the neck and the other around the waist. He grinned into the kiss.

“Eager aren’t we?” Robb pulled back, but the set of lips simply trailed down to his neck. “Hey! No marks! _Theon!_ ”

“Why?” that mouth asked against his throat. “What’d you tell your idiot brother?”

“Lost my wallet,” Robb moaned as Theon Greyjoy’s mouth continued to lap and suck at his neck. “By the way, I’m going to need it back. How’d you manage to get it?”

Theon pulled away from his neck and two shiny eyes danced at him. “You were so distracted during lunch that you didn’t even notice when I nabbed it from you.” He pulled out the wallet from his back pocket and tossed it to Robb. He winked and Robb rolled his eyes. “How long till you are due back?”

“Like any minute,” Robb groaned. “This would be a lot easier if we just _tell_ someone-”

“No,” Theon was pressing his lips against Robb’s once more.

“Not even Jon?” Robb managed to get out. “He could cover for us. Your family wouldn’t find out. It’d still be a secret.”

“That’d mean I’d have to be nice to him,” Theon smirked against Robb’s cheek as he nuzzle him. “You know I can’t physically do that. It would kill me.”

“Well,” Robb pulled away because even though he much rather spend the afternoon making out with Theon, he needed to get back to Jon so he wouldn’t get suspicious, “are we still meeting this weekend?”

Theon smirked, pulling Robb up to him once more. “Wouldn’t miss it.”


	8. Breaking and Entering [Gendrya]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Prompt 29, Gendry x Arya ;)
> 
> 29: You just snuck into my apartment and wait is that blood?

Gendry normally was a pretty deep sleeper, but even he couldn’t sleep through the sound of glass shattering. Jerking upward from his bed, Gendry quickly climbed out grabbing the baseball bat that he kept by his night stand. He didn’t have the frame of mind to even think about covering himself up further than just boxers. Not with an intruder in his apartment.

Slowly, he crept through the darkness. Slipping out of his room, he noticed the light in his kitchen was on. He could hear someone swearing lowly as they rummaged through his possessions.

Turning the corner rapidly, Gendry held the bat ready to swing but stopped short upon see the intruder.

“Arya? What the fuck are you doing here?” Gendry lower the bat. The adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins extinguished instantly. However, it did come back just as quickly as he took in her appearance. “Wait, is that blood?”

She was dress in all back, her hair pulled back. The sleeves of her jacket were rolled up and her hands were covered in blood. She seemed unfazed by his discovery. Gendry noticed that she had pulled a bottle of vodka on the counter that was also covered in blood.

“If it makes you feel better not all of it is mine,” Arya finally said.

“ _No_ ,” Gendry yelped exasperated. “Oh my gods, let’s get you cleaned up.” He begun to lead her to the bathroom but turned around a second later. “And leave the alcohol. You don’t need that to clean it out.”

Arya smirked as she sashayed past Gendry. “’Wasn’t using it to clean.”

Gendry rolled his eyes as he followed her into the bathroom. She sat calmly on the toilet while Gendry searched for his first aid kit.

“Want to start explaining?” Gendry asked as he pulled out the kit.

Arya shrugged, like she couldn’t be bothered with it. After a pointed glare from Gendry she sighed loudly. “ _Fine_ , it was Hot Pie’s idea.”

“Oh, because Hot Pie _always_ has great ideas,” Gendry muttered sarcastically.

“ _Anyways_ ,” Arya pressed forward, “long story short, we got into a little fight with some people outside a pub and, well, they are off a _lot_ worse.”

Gendry didn’t even know what to say about that. He simply cleaned up her hands and found that the only real wound was a cut across her palm. It was swallow, but he still disinfected it and wrapped it up for her.

“How’s Hot Pie?”

“’Has a black eye,” Arya smirked. “Otherwise, fine. He’ll live.”

“I can’t believe you two,” Gendry forced his face to stay weary and not smile fondly. It would only encourage this behavior. “Why my place?”

“Hmm?” Arya looked up as Gendry cleaned his hands off in the sink.

“You broke into my place.”

“Robb would have driven me to the hospital if he saw even a scratch. Jon would have gone on a man-hunt. Sansa would have nagged endlessly. You wouldn’t.”

Gendry did crack a smile at that. “I see.”

“Besides, I was hoping to maybe spend the night?” she asked, much more quietly, her eyes down cast.

Gendry raised his eyes, watching her until she made eye contact. At that, he smiled.

“Alright, let me find you something to sleep in.”

Arya smiled back. “Thanks.”


	9. Sleep Deprivation [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Prompt 38 with Throbb <3
> 
> 38: I’m only running on five red bulls and a coffee and woah dude didn’t mean to sleep on your lap the whole bus ride

When Theon had made the last minute decision to up and leave town and to visit Asha, he knew he was bound to run into problems and strange occurrences. It was unavoidable when your plan was haphazardly formed the night before when you heard your emotionally stunned sister was getting hitched in four days. Theon had just expected his problems to be a little _different_ than simply have a cute red head curled up on his lap, passed out and probably drooling on his thigh.

Finding the bus ticket on short notice turned out to be not at all as difficult as he thought it would be. Actually, the whole process had been pretty fucking smooth until the man Theon had dubbed “Hot Mess” got on board seconds before the bus was set to leave.

The minute Theon laid eyes on the guy, he knew something was up. Hot Mess was, well, hot. Theon would have loved nothing more than to take the guy to the back of the bus and _thoroughly_ get to know. Unfortunately, the guy looked like his entire world was crumbling and he was barely keeping himself together.

First of all, it looked like exhaustion had literally come and punched him in the face. Twice. The dark circles around his eyes looked more like bruises than anything else. Secondly, his hair and clothing were in utter disarray. Theon could decide if the guy had thrown the clothing on last minute or if he had been wearing in the middle of a wind storm. Finally, Theon couldn’t help but notice the large, crushing backpack on his shoulders. You would have thought he was Atlas trying to carry the world.

Theon tried to keep his surprise when the guy plopped down on the seat beside him wordlessly. The bus was mostly full, but there were still other options for him to sit. Hot Mess didn’t say a word. All he did was give Theon a worried look before reaching into his backpack and pulling out a can of Red Bull. Theon didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was watching or his disgust when Hot Mess drained the whole thing in one go.

Hot Mess tossed the can into his bag and settled himself in the seat. He looked inches away from falling asleep but seemed determined not to. But even with the Red Bull, an hour later, Hot Mess was snoring softly in Theon’s ear.

It wasn’t until hour two that Hot Mess started invading Theon’s space. He tried to ignore it at first. It wasn’t much, his arm just pressing lightly against Theon’s. But thirty minutes after initial contact, Theon began to release that Hot Mess wasn’t even human. He was a fucking heat leech.

In the course of half an hour, Hot Mess had managed to rest his head on Theon’s shoulder in a way that allowed him to breathe down Theon’s collar. Hell, Theon would have even been fine with that if it weren’t for the fact that he also decided to throw his arms around Theon and pull him into a hug.

With some very careful maneuvering, Theon rearranged Hot Mess. He pitied the guy. He looked like he was going through a major rough patch and he probably deserved a break. So Theon grabbed Hot Mess jacket and bunched it into a pillow of sorts and set it on his lap. Once he got Hot Mess into a laying position (Theon was still amazed that the guy was sleeping through this, but then again the way he looked it wasn’t surprising sleep had a firm hold on him), Theon took his own jacket and made it into a make-shift blanket.

After a content sigh, Hot Mess didn’t move a fucking inch. Not until the bus screeched to a stop eight hours later and he was jolted awake.

Theon watched in mild amusement as his blue eyes widened, clearly not expecting to be in that position. Hot Mess sat up, Theon’s jacket hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Blushing, he glanced out Theon’s window. “Are we are at Seagard?”

“Yup,” Theon rolled his shoulders. He was stiff from sitting in the same position for nearly ten hours.

“Right,” Hot Mess scratched his head. “Sorry, about, uh, you know.” He gestured lamely to his bunched up jacket on Theon’s lap.

“Don’t sweat it,” Theon stood up causing Hot Mess to do the same.

Silently, Hot Mess thanked him with a nod of the head before grabbing his large bag and filing off the bus. Theon watched him get off and followed suit, grabbing his duffle in the process.

Instantly, Theon headed for the ticket window wondering if they had a number for a taxi to drive him to High Heart. What Asha was doing there was beyond him.

Getting the number, Theon pulled out his phone and began to walk to the bench. Despite having been seated for hours, he found his legs tired. Probably because of Hot Mess.

“Hey!” Theon turned to see Hot Mess approaching. Behind him, a pretty red head girl (maybe his sister?) followed hesitantly. “Where are you going?”

“High Heart, why?” Theon asked, eyebrows raised in caution.

“Well, we are heading to Riverrun and,” he blushed, “well, if you need a lift…High Heart isn’t too far off from Riverrun.”

Theon blinked, surprised by the stroke of luck. “Really?”

“I kind of owe you for back there,” Hot Mess gestured to the bus. “Really, it’s no problem. Oh, I’m Robb and this is my sister, Sansa.”

Theon stood up and Hot Mes- _no_ , Robb held out his hand. Theon grabbed and shook. “Theon.”


	10. Fake It To Make It [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr user mywolfking: What about Theon and Robb faking a relationship so that the Stark doesn’t have to date Roslin Frey?
> 
> [Note: There is a chance I will expand on this in the future]

****“What the fuck were you think Robb?” Theon asked the minute the door to the Stark’s bedroom slammed shut. At least Robb had the fucking decency to look guilty, but that hardly forgave him for what he did.

“Theon-”

“ _No_ ,” Theon hissed lowly. “What. The. Hell?”

“It’s not that big-”

“Don’t,” Theon threatened. “Don’t say it’s not a big deal. You can’t just announce to your _whole fucking family_ that we are dating when _we aren’t fucking dating._ ”

“Shush!” Robb rushed Theon, slamming his hand over Theon’s mouth. Theon looked murderous. “Please, just let me explain!”

Slowly, Robb removed his hand and Theon narrowed his eyes. “You have twenty seconds.”

“My mother was trying to set me up with Roslin Frey,” Robb let out in a rushed voice.

Theon looked incredulously. “ _So?_ ”

“ _So_ ,” Robb stressed, rubbing his forehead, “she was basically trying to set me up for an arranged marriage and,” he sighed stressfully, “I can’t do that. It was the only thing I could think of at the time to stop it!”

“By pretending to _date_ me?” Theon asked, still not quite getting Robb’s train of thought. “Was dinner just not fucking awkward enough for you?”

“I can’t date Roslin if I’m dating you,” Robb murmured, a blush forming on his cheeks.

“You couldn’t think of anyone else?” Theon asked, shaking his head. “Gods, Robb!”

“You were the first person who came to mind and you were right there!” Robb explained.

Theon walked straight past Robb and sunk onto his bed. “Did you have to fucking kiss me in front of them?” he asked quietly.

Robb cringed. “I had to make it believable…”

Theon fell back onto Robb’s bed and closed his eyes. “Great, so now what?”

Robb blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Theon opened on eye to look at Robb. “We are apparently dating now.”

“You mean you’ll keep up the façade?” Robb asked quickly, jumping onto the bed to tower over Theon.

Theon shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “You didn’t really give me a choice in the end, right?”

Robb swallowed. “I figured we could just break it off, I’d rather we didn’t though.”

Gods, Theon was going to fucking loose it. “How long do you plan on keep this up then?”

Robb chewed on his lip. “I dunno. Until Walder Frey moves on and picks another family to bully into marrying all his kids. That could be forever though, so I don’t know.”

“Do you know anything?”

“No,” Robb admitted as he sunk beside Theon. “Are you mad?”

Theon wanted to say yes. He wanted to make Robb feel like shit for pulling that stunt back there. But in the end, Theon sighed, “No.” No matter what, he couldn’t fucking stay mad at the guy. Even if he was going to fuck around with Theon’s heart in the process.

Neither of them spoke any further, simply lying side by side. They could faintly hear the commotion down stairs. The Starks, Tullys, and the Arryns were undoubtedly discussing the sudden reveal of Robb’s relationship.

“It won’t be so bad,” Robb said an hour later.

Theon laughed shallowly. “Maybe for you.” When Robb sent him a questioning look, Theon turned on his side. “I have to go through at least five shovel talks, and that’s not counting the talk I’m going to get from _both_ your parents. Now they aren’t going to leave us alone because they think we are going to be trying to jump each other’s bones at very possible second.” Theon didn’t miss the blush that came to Robb’s face but chose to ignore that. “Speaking of fucking, I can’t do that anymore because I have to be in an honest relationship. I haven’t even gotten into pretending yet and-”

There was a knock on Robb’s door. Both of them sat up quickly as the door creaked open revealing an awkward Ned Stark. He seemed relieved at seeing the state of dress of the two boys as he stepped in, closing the door behind him.

He sighed loudly, regarding his son tiredly. “You couldn’t think of a more appropriate time to tell us you were dating? Really?” Robb looked down at his knees and Theon looked up at the ceiling. Ned continued, “So, how long as this been going on? How many sleep overs am I going to have to regret granting?”

Theon choked and Robb looked ready to die. “Only a month.”

Theon expected a lot of reactions out of Ned at that declaration, but he _definitely_ wasn’t expecting disbelief.

“Only?” Theon and Robb both stiffened. Ned went into recovery mode at lightning speed. “I only mean…never mind. I think it’ll be best of Theon goes home. He can come over tomorrow, but-”

“Say no more,” Theon jumped up from the bed. “I should have headed out a while ago anyways.”

Robb jumped from the bed also. “I’ll walk you out.”

“No, it’s fine,” Theon waved off. “I’ll text you later.”


	11. Over [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: here’s a for number 33 (“I loved you. Loved” I believe)) w/ Throbb

He couldn’t believe this. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. It _couldn’t._ It wasn’t the end. It was the _fucking_ end.

Theon was begging, probably crying too. A mess of tears and snot. He knew he looked fucking pathetic and ridiculous but he didn’t care. Not when his whole world was imploding on itself. Not when Robb was leaving. Not when his life was over, crumbling away without the foundation in place.

“Robb, please-”

“Theon, no,” Robb ground out sharply. It stung his ears.

Robb couldn’t even look Theon in the eyes. Theon wasn’t sure if that was worse than being stared down by those river blues. He wasn’t sure if the cold shoulder hurt more than a disgusted sneer. Theon wished it was neither and he could just see Robb smile at him one more time. Like he used to. Like when he thought Theon was worth something.

“Please, we can talk about this!” Theon pleaded. He went to reach for Robb to hold him, making him realize that this wasn’t the answer. Make Robb realize they could work through this, just like always. But Robb stepped further out of reach.

“There is nothing to discuss.” His voice was dead and Theon _hated_ it. He wanted Robb to scream at him, hit him, crying, _something._ But nothing? The dead stillness of his voice? It was like he didn’t care. It was like the ten plus years of friendship and five years of love meant nothing. Like what they had was dead, buried in the ground. It was like being stabbed in the heart.

“I love you!” Theon exclaimed, tears staining his cheeks. Robb had to understand, he had to know. “Gods, I love you so much. Please, Robb, _please_.”

Robb turned around at this, his eyes clouded with something Theon couldn’t read. Something that wrenched at his gut.

“Well, I loved you,” Robb muttered. His eyes rose from the ground and pinned Theon down. They were hard and sharp, not soft and loving like they used to be. “ _Loved_ , Theon. It’s over.”

“No,” Theon was shaking his head. Scratch that, his whole body was in a mess of tremors. He felt weak, his legs could barely carry him further, his hands were useless. “No, no, no, _no_ , Robb!”

“Good bye,” Robb turned around and began walking. Theon tried to follow but his legs were weak and numb. He was seizing up and collapsed on the apartment floor. He tried to call out, beg for Robb to just turn around and come back. But the apartment door opened and Theon curled up into himself as the door slammed shut in finality.

It was over. It was done. Robb was never coming back.

Theon would never see him again. His auburn curls and bright blue eyes. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed or how his lips twitched up when he trying to hold in a grin. How he’d shake his hair from his eyes. How he’d sit with his legs out no matter where he was. How he’d sleep on his side, his mouth hung open.

Theon would never hear him again. How his voice squeaked when he was embarrassed or his smooth chuckle when he was amused. How his speech came out rushed and excited whenever he was really into a conversation or how he could keep his tone calm and measured during a crisis. How when he was tried, Theon could feel his voice vibrate more than hear when he murmured I love you’s.

Theon would never smell him again. The pine scent that clung to his skin. The smell of evergreens and winter. The smell of the north, a place Theon never felt at home at but a smell that carried the very meaning of home.

Theon would never taste him again. They would never kiss again, exchange breaths and moans. He would never taste his lips, his tongue, his skin. He would never pepper his skin in kisses again or lick the shell of his ear. Theon would never taste that love again.

Theon would never feel him again. They wouldn’t occupy the same space. Their legs would never be pressed together, their arms never brushing. He’d never feel the softness of his curls or the gentleness of his touch. Their fingers would never intertwine and he’d never feel his embrace again.

Robb was gone. So much for Now and Always.


	12. Trickery [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Uhm so u wrote a short robb xtheon high school prompt could u likeaybe write another one bc I LOVE it and it’s not letting me go

“So,” Robb was bubbling with excitement as Theon Greyjoy entered the deserted classroom, “how’d you do on your math test?”

Theon slumped in the seat across from Robb Stark and pulled out a folded, wrinkled test. He passed it over and watched, keeping his smirk at bay as Robb’s face fell.

“A 36? This…this doesn’t make sense,” Robb looked up, his eyes searching Theon’s confused. “We went over all of this and…how’d you get this wrong?”

Theon shrugged carelessly, “Math is hard, mate.”

Robb wasn’t buying it. He had been tutoring Theon for nearly two months now and they had made great strides. Strides that almost weren’t needed because Theon actually knew what he was fucking doing, he just didn’t seem to have the patience to work the problems out or the focus to get himself to do so. So none of this made sense.

 Robb narrowed his eyes at the test. “Wait, you got this one correct and then changed the answer?”

“Second-guessing is a bitch.”

“Theon.”

“Robb.”

He was grinning, brightly so. Robb, not so much.

“What’s going on?” Robb set the test down.

“I guess we’ll just have to stick to this tutoring thing, huh,” Theon tilted the chair back on its legs. “Sorry.”

“I have the feeling you aren’t,” Robb crossed his arms tight over his chest. For some reason, this caused Theon’s smirk to grow. Robb’s frown deepened. “Two days ago you were doing these problems in your sleep.”

“I have performance anxiety,” Theon remarked cheekily.

“I highly doubt that,” Robb muttered. “Look, if you aren’t going to take this seriously than I am just going to go.”

Robb made a move to leave but Theon slammed the front two legs of the chair back onto the ground and reached out for Robb, grabbing him by the wrist, “Wait!” Robb paused and Theon continued, “Look, I screwed up. Give me another chance and I promise I’ll do better.”

“It doesn’t change the grade you got,” Robb nodded to the paper.

Theon let his wrist go and leaned back into his chair again. “Don’t worry about that,” Theon shook his head. “My folks don’t care and I’m not exactly aiming for furthering my education. Next test I’ll pass though.”

Robb settled fully into his chair. “Just because your parents don’t care, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.”

Theon shrugged. “I like to focus on other things.”

“Like your doodles?” Robb raised an eyebrow as he examined the back of his test. There was a cluster of doodles.

“Sure,” Theon smirked. “Look, college isn’t for everyone. For you though, definitely.”

“So why bother with a tutor if you don’t care?” Robb cocked his head to the side.

Theon did that damn smirk again, the one where one side pulled more than the other, the one that made him look boyish and jovial. That smirk did a horrible thing to Robb’s stomach. It was twisting and something was trying to break out from inside. It always happened when Theon gave him that look.

“Might not like the subject so much, but the tutor isn’t half-bad.” Cue wink.

Robb blinked and swallowed hard. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Depends, is it working?”


	13. Surprise! [Throbb + Jon]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Prompt: Jon hides in the closet to prank/surprise Theon but when he hears the door open he realizes Theon is with someone(Robb) and he is still in the closet when theyre having sex. Cue awkward boners and traumatized! Jon

Yup, that did it. Robb was going to die, Jon decided. _After_ , he was finished killing Theon. Why had he let Robb convince him into sharing an apartment with Theon? They all knew it would end up horribly. Honestly, it was a little surprising that it had taken three months before shit had hit the fan. It must have been a new record or something.

But Jon was not going to stand for _this_. Sure, he could take the little pranks and inconveniences Theon had thrown at him like Theon using up all of Jon’s cereal or hiding his socks or even setting his alarm clocks to go off four hours earlier than scheduled. But to dye Ghost’s fur _pink?_ That was too far. Jon wasn’t sure if he was more furious that Theon had tormented his dog or impressed by the fact that he had gotten away with it without Ghost killing him. Jon was going to ignore the fact that Ghost seemed to actually _like_ his new look.

Still, payback was in order. Jon had let many things slide over the years and this was a “straw that broke the camel’s back” situation. Jon had enough and it was time to make Theon eat his damn words.

That’s how he found himself in Theon’s room. That’s how he found himself shuffling through his drawers to find some inspiration for a prank. That’s how he miscalculated time and heard the front door open.

Jon froze. He had timed this with the idea that Theon would be at work until six, but it was three o’clock and someone had entered the apartment and the only other people who had keys were Ygritte and Robb.

 Jon froze as he heard not one, but two steps of footsteps come toward the door.

_Fuck_.

Quickly, Jon threw himself toward the closet. Hopefully Theon wouldn’t stay long. Jon just barely got the closet door shut when the bedroom door opened. Jon willed his breathing to calm and prayed Theon was just grabbing his jacket before heading somewhere else. Like fucking work, what the hell?

“ _Gods_ , you look so good,” Theon purred to the other person. Jon stiffened once more. It was the middle of the day. Did Theon _seriously_ bring one of his lays home now? “Snow should be off fucking around somewhere so we have plenty of time to _have fun_.”

Jon hoped that whoever Theon brought would be absolutely disgusted by the comments but that was instantly quashed by a small thud of something (or someone) hitting the door and a tiny moan filled the room. Jon swallowed hard. Maybe Theon would finish quickly and leave?

For a while the room was filled with the sound of slopping kissing and tiny moans. Thankfully, Theon decided that narrating all the events would kill the mood. Unfortunately, it allowed Jon’s mind the fill the blanks. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

Then he heard the sound of clothing be discarded, most noticeably a belt clanking as it hit the floor. A few softer items hit the floor and then the bed squeaked as bodies climbed on. Jon had half the mind to cover his ears.

“ _Gods_ , why are you so good at that?” Theon _whimpered_. Jon was going to fucking lose it.

A quiet chuckle followed and Jon froze. That laugh did not belong to a woman. It was too deep to be. Oh, he had to take a peak, as much as he didn’t want to see a naked Theon. Jon had to know who the hell Theon brought back with him because it sure as hell wasn’t a woman.

Slowly and carefully, Jon cracked the door just enough to catch a glimpse of the bed. His blood turned cold and he closed the door quickly, hoping it didn’t make too loud of a sound. Jon slammed his back against the wall and tried to eraser the image from his mind.

He did not just fucking see his brother giving Theon fucking Greyjoy head. _Gods be fucking good_.

But he knew what he saw. Theon lying against his pillows, his legs parted and Robb, _Gods, Robb_ , in between his legs. Theon’s hands curling in Robb’s hair and Robb’s hands gripping Theon’s thighs. Fuck, he was never going to get that image out of his mind. Theon’s wrecked face and Robb _fucking_ smirk.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Theon exclaimed. “Shit, shit, Robb, fuck, stop.”

Jon heard the audible pop of Robb releasing  _Theon’s fucking cock_. “Why?” God was he fucking teasing Theon? “Too much for you?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Theon hissed, but the effect was lost at Robb’s snickering. “Come up here and fuck me.”

_Oh, fuck no._ Jon wasn’t sure what would be worse: listening to his brother fuck Theon or revealing himself so he could get the fuck out of the room.

In the end, Theon decided for him.

“Oi! Snow!” Jon fucking died, his heart beating loudly in his ears as his breathing ceased. “I’m going to give you ten seconds to get lost or you can stick around for the show.”

Well, he was already caught, might as well save himself _some_ trauma.

He didn’t cast a single glance toward the two on the bed as he rushed out of the closet and raced out of the room. Behind him, he could hear Theon cackling and Robb hitting him with a _“What the fuck, Theon?”_

Jon didn’t wait around to see if that ended up deterring them from continuing and locked himself in his room. Jon pressed his back against the door and sunk to the ground. It took him a full minute of self-loathing to realize he was half-hard. Ghost nuzzled his cheek and Jon wished he could go back half an hour to when his only concern was the fact that he had a pink dog instead of his brother fucking Theon fucking Greyjoy. Oh, who was he kidding, they were probably dating and that just made it _fucking worse._


	14. Fumble [Brojen]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Brojen (“You got a little too into flag football and now you have to carry me to the nurses office because you broke my leg you asshole”)

_Fuck, fuck, fuck_.

“What is going on here?” a snarl came from behind Jojen. Too bad he was too locked up in his head to react to his coach.

_Shit, shit, shit_.

“My leg,” Bran Stark- _gods why did it have to be him of all people?_ \- hissed through the pain.

Jojen watched horrified as Coach Clegane kneeled down at level with Bran who was sprawled on the field with his leg twisted in an awkward angle. “We need to get you to the nurse. I’ll call ahead. Reed!” Jojen froze as attention was brought back to him, his own head still spinning at what just happened.

_Oh fuck, oh shit, oh fuck._

“Yes, sir?” he asked weakly, his stomach rolling.

“Go get the wheel chair from my office and bring it to the edge of the field. We’ll wheel him down to the nurse’s office. _Now_.”

Jojen was quick on his feet and ran as fast as he could.

_Gods, he was fucking screwed._

Not only did he already hate the physicality of flag football, but the one time he couldn’t get out of playing he ended up (possibly) breaking someone’s leg. And of course it was Bran fucking Stark. There was a special type of stupidity award given to people like him who manage to break their long-lasting crush’s leg.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck_.

Jojen returned with the wheel chair, wishing he could just fucking die on the spot because _goddamn this could be fucking happening._

Coach Clegane lifted Bran carefully into the chair and pinned Jojen was a hard look that (unfortunately) didn’t obliterate.

“Wheel him to the nurse’s office. I’ll be there shortly,” he snapped.

Jojen didn’t need to be told twice as he grabbed the handles of Bran’s wheelchair and quickly began pushing them to the school building.

Neither of them spoke. Jojen was terrified on all counts. What was the school going to do? What was Bran going to do? What were his terrifying siblings going to do? What was _Meera_ going to do? Jojen was fairly certain that all of those questions were answered with his death, the manner just simply varied.

The nurse was waiting for them at the end of the hallway and quickly took over Bran. Jojen just followed, not really sure what the hell he was supposed to do. Bran and he were amicable, but not close. Definitely not close enough for Bran to lean on him yet Jojen knew he could just _leave_ the guy. Mostly for the morality of it, but also because he wanted to make sure the guy he had the hots for didn’t hate him.

The nurse settled Bran in the clinic and fiddled around with him. Jojen wasn’t really sure what the whole process entailed but he remained silently watching until the nurse left to go to the front office, warning both of them not to touch anything.

“It’s not your fault,” Bran finally spoke and Jojen thought he was going to choke.

“I broke your leg,” Jojen stated bewildered.

“I always had bad legs,” Bran shrugged but winced at the movement. Jojen realized that while the leg was probably the worst injury, Bran was probably also bruised everywhere else.

“I’m sorry,” Jojen rushed out. Bran smiled and Jojen wished he wouldn’t. You don’t smile at the asshole that broke your leg. “I gotta make it up to you.”

Bran looked stunned. “That’s not necessary.”

“Dude,” Jojen groaned. “Your fucking leg, I have to do _something_.”

“Okay,” Bran nodded his head slowly. “You could buy me dinner.”

Jojen froze, staring at Bran like he was from another planet. “Excuse me?”

Bran blushed at this. The confidence he had before was beginning to wavier. “D-Dinner, I mean, as an apology or something.”

_Or something_.

Jojen licked his lips. “O-Okay, I can do that.”

“Once this gets all sorted out,” Bran winced as he gestured to his leg. “Actually, they are probably calling my family. You might want to go hide somewhere.”

Jojen took the warning for what it was. Jon Snow and Robb Stark were enough scary but they had _nothing_ on Arya Stark and Rickon Stark. Even Sansa Stark probably killed someone before. That wasn’t even counted all the Stark’s crazy boyfriends and girlfriends.

“Wait! Your number!” Bran called as Jojen got up. Jojen approach, grabbing a pen and Bran’s hand in a swift movement. He wrote it down quickly on his palm and Bran looked up at him was a smile that rivaled the sun. Jojen was going to fucking lose it.

_How was this happening? Should I have broken his leg earlier? Oh my gods, I can’t believe I just thought that. I’m losing it._

“It’s a date,” Bran hummed.

“It’s a date,” Jojen repeated, still not sure how this whole thing was possible.

They smiled but it was instantly interrupted by the tight grip on Jojen’s shoulder that spun him around. He came face to face with a feral Robb Stark. Behind him, Jon Snow and Arya had both their eyes locked on him, glaring daggers. Rickon was being _physically detained_ by Sansa who looked ready to let him go anymore.

_I’ll probably die before we get that date. Fuck, fuck, fuck._


	15. Touch Down [Brojen]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Whoever did the fanfic about the broken leg, omg please can they continue and do one about the date!!!

“I don’t want to go home yet,” Bran admitted. They were on the way home after their date. In Jojen’s mind the whole thing went off near perfect. They talked ( _gods did they talk_ ), they laughed ( _Jojen was going to commit Bran’s laugh into memory_ ), and they held hands over the dinner table ( _Jojen nearly had a heart attack)._ But the night was coming to a close, Bran’s curfew being ten minutes away.

“Trust me,” Jojen said, “me too.”

Bran turned in his seat to look at Jojen as they pulled up to the Stark home. “I don’t have to be inside for ten minutes.”

Jojen turned and smirked at Bran. “And what do you have in mind?”

_Gods, he sounded fucking smooth_.

Bran flushed and Jojen grinned proudly. “I don’t know. This is kind of my first date. Ever.”

Jojen’s heart thudded loudly. “Really?”

Bran looked down. “Yeah, so I’m not sure how these things go.”

“What things are you thinking?” Jojen asked, leaning slightly over the center console of the car to meet Bran’s eyes.

Bran looked up. “K-Kissing.”

_Gods be good_.

“Oh,” Jojen swallowed. “Is that what you want to do or is it what you think you should do?” There was a difference.

Bran blinked, catching Jojen’s train of thought and grabbing his hand. “Both, mostly the first one.”

Jojen smirked. “Have you kissed someone before?”

Bran’s face burned an even brighter shade of red. “No.”

“I’ll show you,” Jojen offered. “First, close your eyes.”

Bran seemed hesitant, but after taking a quick glance at the clock and seeing their time left had dwindled to eight minutes, he snapped his eyes shut and squeezed Jojen’s hand to continue.

“Good,” Jojen praised, running his thumb over the back of Bran’s hand. “Now relax, and just do what feels right, okay?”

Bran nodded his head and Jojen decided not to waste a second more not kissing him.

He started slow, simply just pressing his lips against Bran’s, allowing him to get comfortable with the concept. Then he moved to deepen the kiss, moving slowly through the entire process, allow Bran an out the minute he felt uncomfortable.

Apparently, Bran didn’t end up needing an out. One minute they were innocently kissing, the next, Bran was trying to climb over the center console with a _fucking broken leg_ to deepen the kiss. Jojen ended up having the pull away in fear that he was going to end up causing Bran more injury. He didn’t need to end up creating a routine of it.

“Easy there,” Jojen smirked as Bran caught himself and eased back into the seat, his face now impossibly red. “Save some for next time.”

Bran’s eyes brighten at that. “Already asking for another?”

“That a problem?”

Bran laughed. “Definitely not.”

Both of them jumped at the loud knock on the driver’s side window. Both turned to see Robb, Jon, Sansa, Arya, and Rickon’s faces staring into the car. Jojen prayed they just showed up and didn’t see what they were up to. He already fucked up first impressions with _breaking the guy’s leg_ ; he didn’t need them hating him anymore.

“Don’t worry,” Bran patted Jojen’s hand as he opened his car door. “I have enough blackmail on all of them to keep them quiet and docile.”

Despite the angry glares on him, Jojen laughed.

_Gods, he never thought he’d be glad for breaking someone’s leg._


	16. Picture It [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The1WeLiveInNow: Theon is round Robb's house and finds Robb's drawings of him at his desk

_“What do you mean you broke into my house?”_ Robb hissed over the phone. Theon bit back a laugh as Robb was trying to keep his voice low.

“I’m not sure I can boil it down any simpler,” Theon settled in Robb’s desk chair and rolled himself around. “I know where you guys hide the keys. Really, whose bright idea was it to hide it under the wolf statue?”

_“Theon, what the fuck?”_ Robb groaned over the phone. _“You can’t just go inside my house while no one is there.”_

“You guys are going to be gone for two weeks,” Theon shrugged it off, propping his feet on the desk, an action he knew Robb hated but Robb wasn’t here there to yell at him for it. “Look, my uncles are in town and I just can’t stay there. I won’t do anything stupid; I’ll only come here to sleep. I have better things to do than hang around your empty house.” Theon took a deep breath and pulled out the big guns, “Please?” He only asked politely if it was a dire situation and Robb knew this.

_“Fine, you can sleep in my bed. Just don’t go messing through everyone’s stuff, especially Jon’s things. He hates it when you do that.”_

Theon grinned. “No promises, Stark.”

_“Theon! I’m fucking serious.”_ There was a pause. _“Sorry about your uncles.”_

“Eh,” Theon waved off even though Robb couldn’t see the gesture. “It’s no big deal, really. Promise.”

_“If you say so,”_ Robb sounded distracted. _“Look, I got to go. My grandfather is making us watch some home movies of my mom. I’ll call you later tonight. Try not to do anything stupid until then.”_ There was a fondness in his voice and played with Theon’s heartstrings.

“Catch ya later, Robb.” Theon hung up the line. Setting his phone on the desk, Theon looked around the room.

Despite having been in Robb’s room thousands of times before, Theon took the opportunity to explore. Usually when he was over, Robb captivated most of his attention but now Theon would have two weeks to analyze he _true_ person Robb was, although Theon knew he already had a solid answer.

Theon naturally started with the desk. If Robb was anything like his father (and, boy, did he try), all his personal and business effects would be sorted out in the many draws. Theon haphazardly picked one at a time in random order. As far as he was concerned, he had all the time in the world.  

And then he came across _it_. Theon had known Robb had taken some art classes when he was younger and liked to doodle (the notes they passed during class could verify that), but Theon didn’t know Robb had four thick fucking sketch books filled with rather detailed drawings.

Many of them were doodle, cartoonist sketches. Flipping through it, Theon could see there were only a handful of subjects Robb deemed worthy of sketching over and over. Blushingly, Theon couldn’t help but notice one of those subjects were him.

Theon didn’t think much of it in the beginning. Of course he would be a subject of Robb’s art. Why wouldn’t he? They’d known each other for over a decade. Theon actually would have been fucking offended if that asshole left him out of his sketches. It was only when the dates came closer and closer to today’s date that Theon began to think that being chosen as the subject of these sketches had more to do with simply just being there long enough.

It wasn’t exactly an obvious thing about them that gave Theon the feeling there was something more. It wasn’t like Robb had written out his reasoning for it underneath each sketch. It’s just…not many people drew their best mates in such a…well the only word Theon could think of to describe it was a “romantic” light. Seriously though, the amount of candid and focused sketches of Theon were enough for him to think that maybe these feelings weren’t exactly one sided. Hope, a dangerous concept, bloomed in his chest.

Well, Robb’s phone call later tonight was sure going to be interest.


	17. Different [Jaime/Brienne]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr user i-am-noble: Jaime and Brienne meeting in an ER waiting room?

Jaime Lannister stared at the odd couple before him. His mind trying to rack over what he was seeing exactly. It was nearly three in the morning on a Thursday, his dead-zone shift at the ER coming to a close, when the two had entered the waiting room through the automatic sliding doors.

The couple was a young man and a woman a few years older than her companion. The young man looked like he had been beaten to the near edge of his life, the woman practically carrying him inside the ER. Blood covered a good portion of his face and he barely looked conscious. Immediately, Jaime sent his assisting nurse to go and help, giving her a clip board for them to fill with their information and insurance.

The woman, an odd looking thing, filled out the form while the nurse came with a wheelchair and began getting her companion taken care of. Jaime watched as the woman looked from the paper to her companion ever couple of seconds, as if to make sure no further damage would come to him.

She wasn’t pretty, definitely not in the conventional way like his sister. She was tall, like a giant and built with wide shoulders, almost like a man. In the t-shirt she was wearing, Jaime couldn’t help but admire the muscle she had built on her arms. She had straw colored hair that was chopped short with little care for styling. Freckles dusted over her face, across her bent nose that had clearly been broken in multiple places. Her lips were naturally swollen looking and her teeth were crooked. Despite all of this, Jaime couldn’t help be drawn to her eyes. They were a sapphire blue, big and shiny. They even seemed to stand out more against her unattractive features. As if she could sense him watching, her eyes flicked toward him and kept his gaze for a moment before turning back down to the paper work before her, pink dusting along the lines of her freckles. _Interesting_.

As the nurse began to wheel her companion over to him, the woman stood up and followed closely behind. When they reached him, the woman made a move to give the form to the receptionist but Jaime took it before she had the chance. She avoided eye contact.

He read over this patient’s, a Mr. Podrick Payne, information that was written in the tight but neat script of his female companion. Skimming down to the bottom of the page, he found her name. Brienne Tarth.

“Well, Ms. Tarth,” Jaime passed the forms to the receptionist, “we’ll take care of Mr. Payne right away. Please have a seat, and we’ll come get you when we are finished.”

“I can’t come with?” she asked, her voice having a roughness very fitting to her exterior.

“’fraid not,” Jaime muttered, pivoting on his heels and leading the nurse toward the exit of the waiting room.

Podrick Payne ended up suffering from three broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, a sprained ankle, two knocked out teeth, a broken nose, and a concussion. It took nearly three hours for them to sort him all out and move him into a recovery room. He was knocked out on heavy pain medications and probably wouldn’t wake until morning.

Jaime quickly cleaned him up and made his way to the waiting room. While he reasonably could have had one of the nurses alert Ms. Tarth that her companion was in recovery, he felt the intense need to do it himself, to see her blush again. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t find the woman interesting. He had never seen a woman who looked quite like her and acted like she. After years being in Cersei’s constant company, it was refreshing to meet a woman who was nearly her opposite in every respect.

“Ms. Tarth,” Jaime entered the waiting room and approached her. She stood immediately and he noticed she had a few inches on him. “You can see Mr. Payne now. He is in recovery, but I’ll warn you, he is sleeping now on pain medication.”

“I’d still like to see him,” she insisted firmly and Jaime led the way.

They walked in silence, Jaime observing her as they walked. She carried herself more like a man than a woman. Her steps were heavy and measured. She kept her hands firmly in her pockets, her wide shoulders tense with anticipation.

When they reached the room, he held the door for her, letting her in. He lingered at the door way and watched as she gave Podrick a look over.

“When will he be up?” she asked, her blue eyes not leaving her companion.

“In the morning,” Jaime responded with a click of his tongue. “He had quite a few injuries and we needed him under for them.”

She nodded her head, accepting the information. “You have a coffee machine around here?”

Jaime couldn’t help but smirk. “You are going to wait for him to wake up?”

Brienne ignored his question and reiterated her own. “Coffee machine?”

“Down the hall, but its shit and there is a much better place down the street that is open 24 hours.” Jaime gestured vaguely. “I frequent there and could show you the ropes.”

Brienne raised her blonde eyebrows, unimpressed. Jaime grinned at the challenge. “You make it sound like you are asking me on a date,” she deadpanned.

Jaime’s lips twitched upward at this. “No, that would be inappropriate, although if you’d like my company my shift ends in,” he glanced at his watch, “forty two minutes.”

He wasn’t quite sure why he offered it, but now that the words were out of his mouth, he couldn’t take them back. All he could do was wait for her response.

She seemed stunned at this but let it wash away and shrugged. “Sure.”

Teasingly, Jaime purred, “It’s a date,” before leaving the room to finish up his shift. He could hear her huff in amusement.


	18. Bite Me [Gendrya]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guest: I was hoping maybe I could request some more Gendry? Maybe something fluffy with some mildly sexy undertones?
> 
> [I’m assuming this is a Gendrya request :p]

“She hates me,” Gendry eyed the large dog crouched on the other side of the living room. Nymeria, nearly the size of a horse, simply growled in response.

Arya, who was sitting on the floor beside said dog, rolled her eyes. “Nymeria likes you just fine. Are we seriously having this discussion again?”

“Really?” Gendry cocked an eyebrow, sitting up in his seat on the couch, not taking his eyes of the great beast. “She literally tries to bite me every chance she gets.”

“That’s not true,” Arya flipped through the book in her lap before deciding it wasn’t worthy her time and closed it, setting it on the coffee table that stood between Nymeria, Arya and Gendry. “She isn’t trying to bite you now.”

“Fine, she tries to bite me every chance she gets when you _aren’t_ around,” Gendry murmured. Three years and he had the marks to prove it, some of them not even from that long ago. “Hell, we met because she bit me.”

Arya smirked at the memory. Gendry couldn’t share the sentiment. He ended up in the hospital for that, four stitches on his left forearm. The only good thing to come of that was a girl with steel eyes and a smile that cut.

“She is sorry for that,” Arya turned to Nymeria and held her dog’s face in both her hands, the fur drooping through the gaps of Arya’s fingers. “Aren’t you?” she cooed, ruffling the dog’s cheeks in the process.

The sight would have been freaking adorable if Gendry didn’t know that both of them were cold killers. Not that Gendry actually proof that either had killed anyone, but he honestly wouldn’t put it past either of them. Nymeria was one thing and there was no disputing that. Arya though, Gendry had been on the wrong side of an argument a few times to know.

Gendry’s line of thinking came to a halt as Arya stood up. The shirt she was wearing-which was actually _his_ \- falling past the cut off shorts she was wearing making her seem even smaller than she already was. Arya slowly approached him and joined him on the couch, sitting on top of him, in his lap with her legs bracketing his thighs. She put her hands on his shoulders for stability but squeezed them for emphasis.

Gendry raised an eyebrow at Arya to explain, she grinned.

“If you won’t accept Nymeria’s apology, maybe you’ll accept mine,” Arya shrugged nonchalantly, but her eyes danced evilly. Gendry swallowed hard, wondering if Arya was screwing with him again. She _loved_ doing that.

“I think for me to refuse Nymeria’s apology, she’d have to give one,” Gendry drawled, although his hands came to rest on Arya’s hips, slipping under the oversized shirt to touch bare skin.

“She did,” Arya nodded her head firmly. “Every morning she does when she licks your face.”

Gendry wrinkled his nose. “I thought she just couldn’t decide if she was going to bite my nose off.”

Arya flicked him on the forehead before tracing the line of his nose with her index finger. “This is why she doesn’t like you, you do realize that. You won’t give her a chance.”

Gendry threw his head back. “Of course, it’s all _my_ fault.”

“You should be the one apologizing,” Arya smirked.

“Do you have something in mind?” Gendry could see she did.

Arya didn’t answer; instead she closed the space between them until their lips fell together. Gendry didn’t mind in the slightest. That is until the little snake _bit_ him. Hard.

“What the fuck Arya?” Gendry pulled back as she started cackling, one hand leaving his shoulder to hold her shaking chest.

“Pay back,” she hummed in between chuckles. Behind her, Nymeria barked in agreement.

“Pay back for what?” Gendry tenderly touched his lip but was relieved that at least Arya was nice enough not to break skin.

“For being mean to sweet little Nymeria.”

Gendry rolled his eyes. “Neither of those adjectives describe that beast.” Cue growl from Nymeria.

“Want me to apologize for it?” Arya cocked her head to the side, her hair swing with the motion and the collar of Gendry’s shirt sliding down her bare shoulder.

“Depends,” he hulled her light frame closer, “are you going to apologize Nymeria style?”


	19. Work or Distraction [Rickeen]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Ficlet Prompt-Rickon and Shireen (or Throbb if you don’t ship Rickeen) ##60. “I’m very busy right now and you’re distracting me.”

“Shireen!”

_Oh gods, not again._

Without looking up, Shireen responded, “I’m very busy right now and you’re distracting me. Again.”

“ _Shireen!_ Please? It’s important!”

Daring to look up from her laptop, Shireen Baratheon was met with the begging blue puppy dog eyes of Rickon Stark. They were _supposed_ to be finishing up their final papers for their Civics class, but _someone_ wasn’t feeling it apparently.

“What?” she sighed, knowing that if she didn’t humor him now he would just go on complaining and bothering her.

“I have a question for you,” he shifted his laptop away. Shireen caught a glimpse to see he had some website pulled up that definitely had nothing to do with what they were supposed to be writing about.

“How many words do you have?” Shireen raised an eyebrow.

Groaning, Rickon opened up his word document. “142.”

“Rickon!” Shireen immediately reprimanded. “Our paper is 1,500 words! You’ve only written 20 in,” she glanced at the computer clock, “forty minutes.”

“Don’t worry,” he waved him casually, “I got this. Now my question, who do you think would win in a fight? The Flash _or_ Aquaman?”

Shireen shook her head in bewilderment. “Seriously?”

“Answer my question and I won’t bother you until I’ve written 300 more words,” Rickon grinned brightly, flashing his white teeth.

Shireen gave him her own smirk. “Make it 500 words and you have a deal.” She stuck her hand over the table and he took it quickly, nodding his head eagerly for her to continue. “The Flash,” she answered easily. “Two reasons: Speed force and time travel. Super Friends ruined Aquaman for me, although the comics were pretty good recently.”

Rickon nodded his head, accepting her answer. “Good choice, Barath-”

Shireen interrupted him with a silent gesture, putting her index finger to her lips. “You made me a deal, Stark. I heard Starks don’t go back on their words.”

Shireen could see Rickon was dying to make a comment. She pointed to his computer and with a deep frown he pulled his laptop back in front of him and began typing.

Finally, having shut Rickon up once more, Shireen returned back to her work, typing away. Personally, she only have 600 more words to go and she figured after another hour she’d be ready to print it up and pack up.

The silence didn’t last long though. Twenty minutes later, Rickon made the tell-tale action of pushing his laptop away from him and grinning up at her.

“Another questions,” he smirked.

Shireen narrowed his eyes. “How many words you do have?” he couldn’t have written 500 more words when it had taken him forty minutes to write 20 previously.”

With a smug look, Rickon spun his laptop around so Shireen could see the word count. Sure enough, the number was 642, exactly 500 more than what he previously had.

“Okay,” Rickon grabbed his laptop and met Shireen’s eyes. “Same deal we had before?” He held his hand out; it was practically shaking with excitement. Shireen humored him once more and took it. “Robin _or_ Speedy?”

“Which Robin?” Shireen cocked an eyebrow. If she was going to play along, she might as well do it probably.

“Dick Grayson, duh,” Rickon rolled around.

This got a laugh out of Shireen. “Then Robin.”

Rickon nodded his head in approval. “Talk to you in 500 words.”

Sure enough, half an hour later as Shireen was finishing her citations, Rickon shoved his laptop to the side.

“How are you doing that?” Shireen asked, clearly not understanding how one minute he could barely write a word a minute and the next he was writing full pages in minutes.

“I get to ask the questions,” Rickon smirked. “Oh, and before you ask, I’m at 1,256.”

Shaking her head, Shireen pushed her laptop aside as well. “Okay, go on.”

“So, Barbara Gordon _or_ Koriand'r. Now this one is important and I might have to end our friendship over it so pick carefully,” Rickon leaned on the table, watching Shireen’s every move.

“Wow, okay, honestly Babs has my heart and always will. I’m guessing this is in reference to Dick Grayson’s love interest?”

Rickon rolled his eyes. “ _Of course_ , and good job, Baratheon. I knew you wouldn’t fail me _unlike_ Bran.”

“Who’d he pick?” Shireen asked, more amused than anything.

“Neither,” Rickon groaned. “He and Jojen are Marvel junkies.” He wrinkled his nose at the concept. “So, I got another question _but_ ,” he already caught her look, “I’ll wait until I finish my paper.”

Thirty minutes later as she was packing up, Rickon printed his paper. He waved it in front of her face proudly before shoving it uncaringly into his backpack.

“Okay, your question,” Shireen prodded.

“Batman vs. Superman?” Rickon asked, shrugging on his backpack in the process.

“Hmm,” Shireen tilted her head to the side, “I don’t know, I’d probably go with-”

“No,” Rickon cut her off, grinning wildly, “I meant do you want to go see the movie. With me. Tonight.” He winked, but a nervous laugh followed it.

Blood rushed to Shireen’s face, but she couldn’t help but nodded her head in agreement.


	20. Savior [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: throbb with prompt 25? (I found you passed out in front of my door so I just dragged you into my home and put you on the couch please don’t scream.)

Robb had only stepped away from the living room for _one minute_ , but apparently that was all the time that was need for actual hell to break loose.

He was in the middle of heat up a pan of oil so he could make some breakfast for himself and his…“guest”, when a blood curdling scream burst from his living room. Robb barely had the mind to take the frying pan off the stove and turn off the gas before running into the living room.

Last night, after coming home from yet another failed blind date (at least she was nice, although Robb was probably not going to be taking any more help from Sansa), Robb had come to his apartment door to find a complete and total stranger passed out drunk against his door. A key that didn’t actually open Robb’s door was still stuck in the lock.

Unsure at what to do at the time, Robb had tried to wake him up and failed. So, reasonably, Robb did the next best thing because he was not going to let some guy sleep in the drafty hallway of his apartment where someone with much more immoral intentions might take advantage of him (he was a pretty face too). So Robb hoisted the guy up as best as he could and dragged him into the apartment and settled him on the couch that was usually reserved for Grey Wind.

Which is what brought them to this moment now. Where the strange woke up and apparently didn’t realize his bedmate would be a dog the size of a horse.

“Oh, shit,” Robb raced over to the couch, grabbing hold of Grey Wind’s collar and pulling him off the couch and away from the stranger who watched Robb’s movements with wide and unsure eyes. Once Robb got Grey Wind off and away from the couch, he turned back to the stranger. “Fuck, I’m sorry, are you okay?”

The guy, obviously a little hung over and not quite there yet, shook his head. A tremor racked through his body. “Where the he-I, uh. Where am I?” he finally settled on, rubbing his eyes to make sure this was actually real.

Robb winced a smile, not sure how to proceed here without seeming completely awkward. “I’m Robb, from apartment 309. You were, uh, passed out in front of my door.”

The man blinked. “309…I meant 308,” he murmured, looking down at his hands which Robb could see where shaking slightly, not to mention two fingers were completely gone from the left and one from the right.

“Oh, Asha,” Robb nodded his head knowingly. “If you want I can go get her while you wake up.”

Robb made a move to go and do just that but the guy stopped him, his hand wrapped tightly on Robb’s wrist with four curled fingers before he thought better of it and ripped his hand away and hiding his hand beneath the blanket Robb had draped over him last night.

“Not yet,” he murmured, doubling over on himself.

Something broke in Robb at the sight of the man. He was clearly terrified and Robb wasn’t sure how to approach this. He didn’t want to accidentally trigger anything (although it looked like he already did) and he sure as hell didn’t want to scare the man more than he already was.

“Do you want some breakfast?” Robb finally asked. The man shook his head quickly. Robb, truly his mother’s son, wasn’t going to take that for an answer. The poor guy was horribly thin to begin with. “Not even some toast? I insist, please.”

“Okay,” he agreed but Robb had a feeling he was saying so just to get Robb to stop pestering.

Standing up, Robb made sure his movements were slow. He was just about to cross the threshold to the kitchen when he heard the man whimpering. Turning around, Robb found Grey Wind had decided to make his way back over to the stranger and had rested his big head on the stranger’s lap.

Robb was back at his side in an instant, pulling at Grey Wind.

“I’m seriously sorry,” Robb stressed. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” Robb pulled Grey Wind toward his bedroom and locked him in there. “He honestly is pretty harmless and-” Robb stopped his words as he watched the guy muttered to himself.

_Shit_ , he should really go and get Asha. Then again, his brief encounters with the woman told him that if he did and she walked in and saw _whoever_ this was to her in this state, Robb might end up dead.

Forgetting the toast he was going to make, Robb sat on the edge of the couch. Carefully and silently, Robb reached for one of his hands. The man flinched at the touch but Robb kept his movements gentle and slow, hoping that it calmed the guy down. He also tried to act as if he didn’t notice the fingers missing. Robb was pretty sure that would lead them down another bad path.

They sat there for maybe twenty minutes in complete silence. The only noise, if you listened carefully, was the quickened breath of the man before him. Once it evened out, Robb watched as he closed his eyes and let in a deep breath.

“Dogs freak me out,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “’Bad experience with ‘em.”

“I’m sorry.” Robb wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for the man’s past experience, Grey Wind’s behavior, or both. But he meant it. “Should I go get Asha?” It felt like maybe she would be better equipped to handle this situation.

“Not yet,” the man pleaded. “I…I just need a moment.”

“Okay,” Robb nodded, still not letting go of his hand. He seemed calmer with Robb holding it, like it was an anchor.

“My name’s Theon,” the stranger finally introduced.

“Robb,” Robb reintroduced himself. “Despite the circumstances, it’s nice to meet you.”

Theon looked up, his eyes glimmering with something Robb couldn’t quite pick up. Something that looked like a mixture of disbelief and pity, but he swallowed it down and looked at their joined hands. A softness came to his face, a hint of a smile pressing at his lips. “Same.”


	21. Mine [Brojen]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Brojen “we’ve been keeping this relationship a secret since we started dating freshman year of high school but now it’s senior year and I can’t take all the girls hitting on your anymore” Or tl;dr version. Secret relationship all of high school. Girls flirt with one a bit too long. Relationship made public in grand fashion.

Meera was cackling.

“It’s not funny,” Bran muttered darkly to her.

Meera kept laughing, only souring Bran’s mood further. Rickon stepped in to defend, swatting the older girl’s shoulder playfully. Despite Meera being a college student doing her education course work observations and Rickon being a sophomore, the two of them got along surprisingly well, ignoring the major age gap.

“Bran’s right.” Meera sobered enough to meet the youngest Stark in the eye who cracked a wide grin. “It’s fucking hilarious.”

They two fell into fits of laughter and Bran threw them both glares because _no_ , it was not _funny_. It was actually getting really freaking old.

Bella, a girl from Rickon’s grade, had stopped Jojen at his locker and was now leaning on his arm, whispering something to him. Bran already knew what the conversation was about because Jojen’s eyes widened and he slowly began to shake his head, making some excuse about how he wasn’t interested in pursuing anything with her, but she is a lovely girl. Bran had him give that damn speech for nearly all four years that they had been dating.

“Come on, Bran, lighten up,” Meera shook his shoulder gently. “I mean, personally I don’t know what they see in him. He’s a nerdy dork who barely can pass as a seven.”

“Oh, Meera,” Rickon shook his head. “Jojen’s an eight. Bran wouldn’t settle from less.”

“Will you two shut up?” Bran snapped. His eyes never left Jojen and the girl, who was now toying with the collar of Jojen’s shirt. Jojen had calmly taken her hand and removed it from his shirt, but she seemed unfazed and equally determined to get what she wanted.

It was true though, in a way. Jojen was a serious dork, but most of the girls that approached him didn’t really know that. They only saw his tall, lean figure, his soft hair and those deep forest green eyes. Bran _definitely_ could understand where the attraction to him came from.

But it didn’t mean that this song as dance wasn’t getting old. They had been dating for four years, initially deciding to keep it a secret because they both had witness the disaster it had been when Robb and Theon announced they were dating. They both had decided they wanted some peace to get their footing and just enjoy each other without the Starks making a big deal about it (which they definitely would). But four years had gone by and the only people who actually knew about them were Meera and Rickon. Jojen had told Meera a week after they decided not to tell anyone, his reasoning being that Meera could see right through him. Rickon found out six months later after an unfortunate walking in one night. Needless to say, Meera and Rickon had both been silence.

“You know there is an easy way to fix this if it bothers you so much.” Meera leaned over to whisper in his ear, which apparently wasn’t all that necessary since Rickon finished it from his place leaning against the wall.

“All you gotta do is roll your jealous little self over there and give in a nice big smooch,” Rickon rolled his eyes.

Bran digested this information silently. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t thought about it before. Actually, it had crossed his mind far too many times. The reason they had struck up this secret relationship had outlived its purpose. They were comfortable with each other and knew where they stood, but Bran was also fearful. He wasn’t sure if Jojen had grown too comfortable in the secrecy.

“I’m not jealous,” Bran finally settled on.

“No?” Rickon cocked his head to the side, his eyes dancing in disbelief. “You don’t care that hoards of pretty ladies keep saddling up to your boyfriend? Or maybe you’re just jealous that they aren’t flocking to you.”

“Honestly, it would make much more sense,” Meera looked upward, theorizing. “I mean, Bran is much more personable and handsome than Jojen.”

“You know, I’d agree with you there,” Rickon nodded his head. They high fived with wicked grins.

Bran watched as Bella’s hand reached up and brushed the loose hair from Jojen’s face and then let it rest on his cheek. Jojen froze but didn’t stop her; only pushing the hand away after the motion was done. Bran saw red.

He didn’t exactly hear what Meera and Rickon had to say as he wheeled himself down the hallway. He only had one goal: get that girl to just stop _touching_ him.

“Jojen,” Bran called, his voice devoid of the emotion stirring in his chest.

The look on his boyfriend’s face could only be described as utter and absolute relief. “Bran,” he smiled dopily.

“’Need to discuss something with you.” Bran turned to glance over at Bella who pouted at being cockblocked. “It’ll only be a moment.”

Jojen cocked an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“Closer,” Bran waved him forward. “It’s a secret.” _It wouldn’t be for much longer_.

Complying, Jojen leaned over till his face was leveled with Bran’s. Bran usually despised the motion (just because he was in a chair, didn’t mean he needed people bending and coddling him). However, Bran found it particularly helpful.

With ease of practice of having preformed this maneuver before, Bran grabbed Jojen by the hips and pulled him forward until he was sitting snuggly on Bran’s lap, his knees bent on the side of Bran’s legs. Too stunned by the sudden motion to say or do anything, Bran moved to the next step and dragged his hand up to the nape of Jojen’s neck before yanking him down for their lips to crash together.

Jojen froze, completely blown by what had just happened and what was currently happening. But Jojen didn’t let that surprise keep him from participating long, his lips moving in tandem with Bran’s, wrapping his arms around Bran’s neck and grinning into the kiss/impromptu make out session in the goddamn middle of their school’s hallway.

Bran could vaguely hear Meera and Rickon lazily commenting on the show they were giving everyone in the hallway, but none of that mattered after Bran heard the surprised and collective yelp from a group of ladies. Bran smirked. _Teach them to touch what’s not theirs._


	22. Again? [Throbb, slight Jon/Ygritte]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: [any pairing] “I think the scary couple in the apartment next door just invited us to an orgy…”
> 
> [chosen pairing: Throbb, a hint of Jon x Ygritte]

“That was…weird,” Robb said the minute the door to their apartment shut. Theon nodded his head in silent agreement. “I heard what they said correctly, right?” Robb asked as Theon sunk onto the couch and Robb sat beside him, their knees pressed together.

“An orgy,” Theon muttered, still mind-blown that their neighbors down the hall had the balls to ask if they wanted to join them for “an evening of drinking and unrestrained sexual exploration.” Their two, big burly male neighbors featuring full beards, tattoos, and a feral-ness that Theon wasn’t sure he wanted be anywhere near.

“Well, should we go?” Robb asked a moment lately. Theon stared at Robb in total shock and terror. “I mean to be nice!”

“Do you want to have an orgy?” Theon asked pegging Robb with a look he couldn’t escape. Theon was surprised he’d ever have to say those words to Robb.

“No!” Robb _squeaked_. “I’m still banking on the fact I might have heard them wrong!”

Theon shook his head. “I don’t think that was the case.”

Robb leaned over and nestled his head on Theon’s shoulder. “This has got to stop happening.”

Theon chuckled silently, his shoulders shaking in the process. “Remember when Renly tried to use you to get back at Loras?”

Robb hummed. “And then you ended up getting in a fight with Loras because you punched Renly’s lights out.”

“He shouldn’t have kissed you,” Theon muttered, pink flooding his cheeks.

“And we weren’t even dating yet,” Robb pressed a light kiss to his chin. “We should send them a thank you card.” Theon snorted. “Hey, remember when we were in Barcelona on that study abroad?”

Theon smirked slyly. “ _Yeah_ , we should go back to Spain.”

Robb punched him lightly. “You’re a pig.”

“Come on, four Spanish girls want to have fun with us and you decided to prude up and say no?”

“I was dating Jeyne then!”

“So?” Theon rolled his eyes, as if it didn’t matter. “It’s called hospitality.”

“Don’t play the naïve card, you knew what they wanted.” Robb slapped his arm lightly.

“Oh, weren’t you the one that wanted to keep going back to that Italian place back home because you thought the service was great?” Theon grinned widely and Robb blushed.

“I didn’t know he was giving us discounts because he wanted a threesome!” Robb pulled away from Theon. “I swear!”

“Uh-huh, sure, sure.” This time it was Theon who rested against Robb’s shoulder, snuggling up to him. “You know what we should do?”

“Hmmm?” Robb asked, carding his fingers through Theon’s hair.

A little giggle came from Theon’s lips. “We should forward the message to Snow. He looks like he needs to get laid.”

Robb chuckled at this. “You think he’d stay after he found out what was going on?”

“Fifty/fifty chance he’d stay because he was secretly interested or he’d run at the first sign of a nipple,” Theon smirked darkly. “Give me your phone.”

Robb knew he should encourage Theon’s hobby of torturing Jon, but on the other hand, Theon was right. Jon needed to get out, even if the event _was_ an orgy.

* * *

 

Two weeks later, Jon introduced Robb and Theon to his girlfriend Ygritte although he was short with the details of how they met. It wasn’t until Robb was checking their mail that their orgy neighbors cornered Robb and asked how the pretty boy was handling _their_ Ygritte. It didn’t take long for Robb to connect the dots of how Jon and Ygritte met.

_Oh, he couldn’t wait to tell Theon_.


	23. Oops! [Gendrya + Jon]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guest: I loved chapter 13 and would love it if you could do something akin to it for Gendry[a] please. It doesn't have to be exact but something along the lines of playful and funny.
> 
> [Note- this is kind of a sequel to ch. 13 but it is not necessary to read for you to enjoy, but it is referenced]

The Gods (the old and the new) must really fucking hate him. Jon must have done some _terrible_ things in a past life from this, not only to happen once…but twice. Seriously, how did Jon end up in the same fucking situation again?

He wasn’t even doing something punishable or mildly evil like he had last time when Theon and Robb… _gods, he had to stop thinking about that day_. He literally had just come over (using the key Arya had given him for such occasions) to get his phone charger from when she had hosted the family game night last night.

That was it, that’s the whole story! No schemes or plots. Just retrieving his possessions. Jon had no idea why he was being punished this time.

It wasn’t his fault that upon entering the apartment, Arya decided _now_ -at 11:30 a.m.-would be the absolute perfect time for her and her boyfriend (fucking Gendry Waters of all people) to get frisky. If the shuffling of clothing and the squeak of the couch weren’t enough of an indicator, than definitely the low guttural grunt was. Jon tried not to attach it to a person. It would be better for his mental sanity and view of his sister and her boyfriend.

This time, Jon knew better than to make the mistake of hiding and waiting it out. If he made himself known before they got too far, he could save everyone embarrassment (and maybe stop the act from happening at all because, _goddamnit Waters, Arya was his baby sister!_ ).

Grabbing the charger, Jon made haste to get out of the bedroom as quickly as possible. Arya and her boyfriend were still situated in the living room which was good. That meant they hadn’t gotten too far yet. There was still time to save face!

Turns out the Gods live to punish Jon at every given opportunity and made him _oh so_ wrong once again. Seriously, were they just laughing at him from above? Because that’s what it fucking felt like.

Jon wasn’t even sure he wanted to register in his mind the scene before him. He’d rather play ignorant than acknowledge what Gendry’s face in between his sister’s legs. At least for the most part they were covered… _Gods_ , Jon was going to have to stab his eyes out anyways, wasn’t he? It was bad enough when it was just Robb (and Greyjoy), but now this? Who was next? Sansa? Bran? _Rickon?_ He made a silent plea that the Gods don’t take him up on that offer. Not while he still had scraps of his mind left in peace.

“Jon!” Arya squeaked, taking the bold care to shove Gendry away and grab the nearest object to cover her (a pillow Jon had given as an apartment warning present). This was still a great contrast to his last encounter where Theon and Robb just laid openly. God-fucking-damn-it what did Jon do? _Seriously?_

Gendry’s eyes widened on Jon and immediately began wiping his face (Jon was going to vomit) and began backing away. Jon avoided looking at the bulged in Gendry’s jeans.

“What are you doing here?” Arya snapped, apparently over her embarrassment as she pulled on the pants that had previously been discarded off to the side. She stood up, face flushed and slightly sweaty, but anger burning in her eyes.

Jon wasn’t entirely sure if this would be worse than listening to them get intimate. Again, Jon didn’t really want to entertain that thought.

Jon held up the phone charger balled up in his fist weakly. Arya’s eyes fell onto it before glaring daggers. The silence was deafening.

Finally, Arya took a deep breath before turning to Gendry. “At least you and Robb will now have something to talk about and bond over.”

Jon choked and prayed that it would just end his suffering now.

Long story short: It didn’t.  


	24. Really? [Throbb + Jon]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Throbb+Jon Prompt: All these years Theon and Robb are dating Jon thinks theyre just pretending so at the bestman speech at the wedding Jon realizes that they were legit and it gets kinda awkward because he cant say anything.  
> Featuring Jon knowing nothing ;)
> 
> [I hope you don't mind that I took some liberty with the prompt...figured if he were the best man for their actual wedding he would have figured it out during all the planning. I'd like to give Jon a little bit of credit, lol]

“Are you kidding me?” Jon asked for the fifth time as they pulled away from the court house.

Robb was sitting in the driver’s seat, humming along to the tunes. Theon was in the passenger, his hand tapping to the same song. Both of them were wearing their matching candy-shop rings with pride.

“What?” Theon pivoted in his seat to stare Jon down. “Can’t believe two men can get married happily? Come on, it just became legal.”

“I just thought you’d have a wedding,” Jon said rather than _I thought you guys were fucking joking this whole time_.

“We are,” Robb smirked. “We just wanted to do this first.”

Narrowing his eyes, Jon sighed, “And why is that?”

“And that,” Theon flicked him on the forward before turning back into his seat, “is none of your business, dearest bastard-in-law.” Theon began cackling and Robb only sent him a quiet reprimanding look, but Jon could see his idiot brother was far too happy to be serious right now.

* * *

_“Hey, Snow,” Theon threw open his bedroom door and sauntered in, Robb at his heels looking amused by Theon’s actions._

_Jon glared up. “Can’t knock?”_

_Theon shrugged, settling on the foot of Jon’s bed with no permission, an action he knew would irk Jon further. “I just wanted to tell you the good news.”_

_Dread filled Jon’s stomach. Whatever was good news for Theon was usually horrible knew for him. “And what would that be?”_

_“Well,” Theon sneered at Jon’s tone, “I just blew your brother in the bathroom and now we are dating.”_

_“Theon, what the fuck?” Robb screeched, red creeping up his cheeks. At least he didn’t know the words that were going to come out of Greyjoy’s mouth._

_Jon stared at the two wide eyed. Honestly, out of all Theon’s jokes, this one felt a little weak. Robb dating Theon, the thought was absurd. “Great,” Jon rolled his eyes. “Now go.”_

_A funny smile came to Theon’s face, like he knew something Jon didn’t. Well, whatever Theon knew Jon wasn’t interested in._

* * *

Robb pulled up at the small restaurant and Jon looked out the window in confusion. “What are we doing here?”

Theon looked mock offended. “It’s the reception you, dolt.”

“It’s a celebration,” Robb agreed, opening the door for his husband with a large fucking smile on his face.

 “Right.” Jon got out of the car shell-shocked. He still couldn’t believe the two of them actually went through with it.

* * *

_“Snow!” Theon administered a quick kick to the back of Jon’s knee, causing it to buckle slightly._

_Jon turned around to see Theon smiling brightly. “What?”_

_“Nothing,” Theon shrugged, but Jon had seen this maneuver before. “Just had a question.”_

_“And what would that be?” Jon asked, knowing that playing along would make Theon vanish all the more quicker._

_“You think Robb would move in with me?”_

_Jon blinked. The question actually sounded_ genuine _. “Yeah, probably.” Jon found himself answering honestly. “Why?”_

_He regretted the question the second Theon’s smirk deepened._

_“It’ll be much easier to fuck each other when-”_

_Jon immediately stopped listening and walked away. Theon’s crass jokes were now just getting annoying, especially after two years of them._

* * *

 

They were seated at the table and ordered their food. Theon insisted that since it was their wedding day that Jon should buy lunch as a gift. Robb told Theon to shut up, but didn’t take back to request.

When the food arrived, Jon went to start eating so this whole day could just end but Theon stopped him, slapping his hands from across the table.

“What?” Jon snapped.

 Theon grinned wickedly. “Aren’t you going to give your best man speech?”

Robb’s eyes widened. “You owe it to us!”

“Just because I played witness to this little scheme of yours, doesn’t mean I’m your best man-”

“Speech! Speech!” Theon exclaimed and Robb nodded his head eagerly.

* * *

_“Are you taking this a little too far?” Jon asked as he watched Theon snuggly drunkenly on his brother’s lap._

_“No?” Robb smiled confused as he brushed Theon’s hair absently. Theon hummed contently, his eyes fluttering shut._

_“You brought him as your date to our family reunion,” Jon deadpanned._

_“He is practically family at this point,” Robb grinned softly down at Theon. Jon didn’t know why though. The joke only seemed to be funny for Theon and there was no point continuing it when he was asleep._

_“Why don’t you just marry him then?” Jon rolled his eyes._

_Robb smiled brightly. “Thinking about it.”_

_Jon shook his head, standing up from the couch. Gods, his brother was an idiot for keeping this stupid joke up for what? Four years now?_

* * *

 

“You can’t be serious,” Jon shook his head slowly.

“Come on, humor us,” Robb nudged him across the table. “Think of it as practice for the actual wedding.”

“June 10th,” Theon stated. “Three months from now.”

Jon blinked. “Seriously?”

Theon and Robb shared a sickeningly sweet look. “Yeah,” they practically breathed to each other.

“But this is a joke, isn’t it?” Jon asked but immediately felt like he wanted to take the words back as Theon and Robb gave him a confused look.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Theon cocked his head to the side, studying Jon. “We’ve been dating for nearly five years.”

It hit Jon like brick wall.

Robb stared him down. “We just got married, Jon.”

Jon wasn’t even sure what to say.

“Wow,” Theon was laughing fully now. “Asha is going to crush you during best man speeches.” Theon turned to Robb. “It’s not too late to ask Bran or Rickon.”


	25. Hashtag [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: maybe Theon finding out that Robb has a secret tumblr account and teasing him because of it? or the other way,, of course ;))

_Well, well, well, what do we have here?_

Theon marveled at the site before him. It wasn’t everyday he found a hidden treasure of Robb Stark. Robb was pretty much an open book, it was rare for him to hide things from anyone, let alone Theon. But, apparently, there was _something_ worth hiding. He just didn’t think it’d be a fucking Tumblr account.

While Theon was _familiar_ with the website, he wouldn’t have necessarily pegged Robb as a user, let alone a very active and prolific one. But there it was, the bloody King-of-the-North himself (seriously, couldn’t be pick a better username?). Hell, Robb even had an artsy as fuck icon of himself.

_Wait,_ Theon narrowed his eyes at the icon, opening it bigger and- _Yup; the bastard cropped him out of the damn photo. Fucker._

He had run into it by chance, but now that he had found it, well, he’d be an idiot not to give it a proper look. Who knows what kind of dark secrets Robb had stored away on this website. Theon was going to look through _every single post_. He had to. A chance like this might not ever come again.

* * *

In the end, it took him nearly three days to get through the entire blog, start to finish (or was it finish to start since he had started from most recent?). During that three day ride through the mind of Robb Stark, Theon learned quite a bit about the lad. Much of it was stuff he already knew, half of it was stuff he suspected, but there was about a 10% of the blog that had been more than enlightening and, well, now that he had his look, he would like to hear it from the horse’s mouth.

So Theon waited, checking the blog every now and then to see if Robb had posted anything new. Theon knew he was at work, but that hadn’t stopped Robb from fooling around on the website during office hours. Theon should know; he had basically been glued to the screen since finding it.

When Robb got home, Theon made no move to greet him as usual. Theon waited on their shared bed, scrolling through Robb’s posts. He was looking for a specific tag so he could just bring up that tag’s posts. That’s what his questions pertained too. Also, they were going to have to discuss the icon because _obviously_ Theon was the best part of that photo and Robb couldn’t just crop him out!

Robb finally entered the bedroom. Wordlessly, Theon turned the laptop around so Robb could see Theon’s discovery. His face was absolutely priceless. Theon would never forget it.

“How’d you find that?” Robb paled.

Theon shrugged. “Want to tell me about it?”

“It’s a Tumblr account,” Robb swallowed. Theon could see he was steeling himself up to brush this whole conversation under the rug. Fat chance.

“ _Oh_ , I’m aware. Come,” Theon patted the empty space beside him, “sit. I have questions.”

Robb gulped. “Questions?”

“One, maybe a follow up or two,” Theon ran his tongue against his teeth.

Carefully, Robb approached the bed, sinking onto the mattress and looking over Theon’s shoulder at the screen. Theon watched as Rob surveyed the screen, his eyes landing on the tag Theon was searching under. His cheeks flamed up.

“Want to tell me what #c stands for?” Theon purred, but he already knew the answer. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who noticed #c was used for all romantic, couple, nsfw, and personal posts. Robb had answered the question from an anon about it five months ago but Theon wanted to hear it from his mouth.

Robb shuffled awkwardly, looking at the keyboard. “It stands for crush.”

“And who do you have a crush on?” Theon grinned, nuzzling Robb’s cheek.

“ _Shut up_ ,” Robb hissed, shoving him lightly. “I made the tag _before_ we started dating.”

“Oh, I know,” Theon grinned proudly. “Dates back _pretty far,_ doesn’t it?”

Robb raised both eyebrows at Theon. “Did you go through my entire blog?”

Theon shrugged as he turned back to the screen. “Maybe. Don’t worry; I think your blog is cute.”

“Don’t make me start tagging things about you with a nice little #ex,” Robb threatened lightly, but leaned against Theon’s shoulder.

“Of course,” Theon brought his lips to Robb’s forehead, closing the laptop in the process. “Point taken. Now, one more thing?” Robb hummed to show he was listening. “We need to discuss that profile picture-”

“Don’t,” Robb warned, “push it.”

“Fine,” Theon muttered, curling against Robb as he brought an arm around him. “We can discuss it another time.”

Robb chuckled, but it stopped suddenly. “Wait,” Robb pulled back and watched Theon carefully, “how’d you find my blog in the first place?” Theon could already see the gears spinning in Robb’s head.

  _Shit_.

Theon actually hadn’t thought how he was going to explain that Tumblr had suggested the blog to him without admitting he owned a Tumblr blog as well. But his silence answered Robb’s question, an evil smiling coming to his face. “Why, Theon, do _you_ have something you’d like to show me?”

_Oh, like hell Robb was seeing his aesthetic blog._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theon's aesthetic blog mostly consists of artsy photo-sets of water/ocean/river scenes, the occasion snow/forest scene, archery and hands, and frequently vague red haired people almost immediately followed by cute couple photo-sets.


	26. Style [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IgnisEtGlacies13: my prompt is going to be a continuation of this verse, maybe that planned phone call with Robb or when Robb comes back from his vacation? (it's up to you ;))
> 
> [continuation of Ch. 16 Picture It]

Theon grinned as his phone lit up. Robb’s dorky sleeping face shined brightly on the phone screen (thankfully, Robb didn’t know that was his contact photo or else Theon would have heard an ear full).

Theon waited four rings before picking it up, knowing that Robb would be irritated. Theon even considered just not picking it up to tease the guy further, but in the end the temptation of messing with Robb about the drawings won out.

“Hello,” Theon drawled, dragging out the vowels in a way he knew Robb would roll his eyes at.

 _“You don’t understand how good it is to hear your stupid voice,”_ Robb groaned from the other line.

“What? House Tully not what you imagined?” Theon chuckled, playing with the edge of the sketchbook.

 _“Worse,”_ Robb hissed. _“Arya is literally trying to fight everyone; Rickon disappeared for five hours and won’t tell anyone where he went. My uncle keeps trying to get me to go out on the town with him and quite frankly if I watch one more home movie, I’m going to vomit.”_

“Hmm,” Theon hummed contently. “Sounds like a blast. Better than Greyjoy reunions.”

_“I thought those didn’t happen.”_

“They don’t,” Theon smirked, “because they were that bad.”

Robb sighed from the other line. _“So what did you end up doing today?”_

With a click of his tongue, Theon responded smugly, “What you told me not to do.”

 _“Gods, did you go through Jon’s things? Seriously?”_ Rob sounded too tired to truly be upset.

“Nah, Snow is boring. I was just in there a few weeks ago anyways,” Theon shrugged. “Want to guess again?”

_“Well, you didn’t go into Arya’s. She has some elaborate traps set up in there, so I guess take that as a warning.”_

“Or a challenge.”

 _“_ Theon _,”_ Robb warned before sighing again. _“Please tell me it wasn’t Sansa. She will kill you, no matter how much you and she get along.”_

“Well, as much as I’d love to see all her romantic poetry, it wasn’t her,” Theon grinned. Theon usually wasn’t one to encourage the guessing game but this was fun.

_“Oh gods, you didn’t go to my parents’ room, did you?”_

“Fuck no,” Theon sneered. “Do you want me to just tell you?”

 _“That would be nice and you aren’t nice,”_ Robb remarked dully.

“I’m nice to you.”

_"On occasion.”_

“Well, it was your room and I found some very interesting things-”

 _“Theon, what the fuck?”_ Robb shrieked a little bit. _“Please tell me you weren’t digging through my closet.”_

“No?” Theon’s eyes lit up in amusement. “But I’ll be sure to check it out.”

 _“Please don’t. Wait, what_ did _you find?”_ Dread was very evident in his voice. Theon couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You have these really fancy black books in your desk-”

_“Oh fuck.”_

“Agreed.” Theon flipped open the book to the page he bookmarked. “I must say, you captured my essence pretty well.” There was silence on the line. Theon continued. “I particularly like the one with the little hearts beside it. Do you know the one? I can send you a picture-”

 _“Are you doing this to make fun of me and be an ass or are you trying to do something else?”_ Robb’s voice was strangely detached. Theon knew the tactic well. Robb wore his emotions on his sleeve, but if he truly wanted to he could lock them up until he was sure things were going to go smoothly.

Theon had to reassure him. “Something else,” Theon grinned. “Trust me, if I had this talent, I’d be doing something similar. Maybe less clothing but that’s just a difference in artistic style.”

There was a pause and Theon waited a long moment before Robb spoke again. _“Please tell me you aren’t fucking with me.”_

“Can’t do that if you’re not here.”

_"Oh my…Theon…fuck- why did you decided to start this conversation while I’m miles away and won’t be back in two weeks?”_

Theon bit his tongue before he said that it was much easier to tell the truth when he couldn’t see Robb’s eyes staring him down. “Gives you time to think it all over.”

_“Do I need to think it over?”_

“Would it really be my style not to mess with you through all of this?”

_"No, but I wouldn’t mind if your style was taking me out to dinner when I get back.”_

Theon grinned, a giddy feeling swimming around his gut. He kept his voice cool and composed though. “Sure, that can be arranged.”

Theon didn’t know it but Robb had the same stupid grin on his face miles away.


	27. Study Date [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Throbb, with one distracting the other (probably Theon distracting Robb tbh) while the other is doing homework and trying to be a reasonable human being
> 
> The1WeLiveInNow: Robb and Theon "studying" at the Stark house and Theon is refusing to help and just keeps flirting with Robb until he gives in

“Theon, I can feel you staring at me.”

“Is it bothering you?” Theon asked, his voice leaning more towards a laugh than a taunt.

“No,” Robb muttered, continuing to stare at the same page of his textbook that he had been staring at for the past five minutes, still not proceeding any further.

“Really?” Robb watched as Theon cocked his head to the side, running his eyes up and down Robb. “You look _bothered_.”

Robb whipped his head up and stared at Theon’s grinning face. Theon lounged back in the chair, tilting it on the back two legs (something Catelyn would hate, but she wasn’t here to reprimand). The bottom of Theon’s shirt lifted ever-so-slightly to show a thin strip of skin.

“ _Really_? Now?” Robb groaned.

“I’m always in the mood,” Theon purred. Robb felt Theon’s foot brush up his calf.

“Well, we are _supposed_ to be doing homework.” Robb pointedly turned back to his homework, as if to set an example. In a very Theon-way of defiance, Theon pushed all of his homework on the side of the table and increased the pressure of his foot on Robb’s leg.

“You said this was a ‘Study Date,’” Theon reminded, leaning forward on the table, planting his elbows down firmly. “We did the study part.”

“No,” Robb glanced up momentarily. “ _I_ did the study part.”

“Oh, no,” Theon winked, raking his eyes over Robb again. “I’ve been studying quite a bit.”

“You’re licentious.”

“Pick that word up in the dictionary, eh?” Theon cackled. “Hypocrite.”

“Excuse me?” Robb dared another glance up, abandoning his work in the process, not that he had actually done anything for the past ten minutes.

“Oh nothing,” Theon looked up at the ceiling lazily, all the while exposing his neck that was marred with bruising hickeys from the other night. “Just callin’ you what you are.”

“That was different,” Robb muttered lowly. “We weren’t _doing_ anything important.”

“I’d have to disagree,” Theon licked his lips tauntingly. He gave Robb a small kick to get his attention again. “I’d say what we were doing was _very_ important.” Another wink.

Robb pushed his chair back so he was now out of reach of Theon’s long legs. Seriously, he needed to just finish up the damn assignment, but apparently, Theon had just decided to give up on being productive today.

With the distance, Robb thought he might have been able to win this arbitrary battle with Theon. Silence was ensured for a total of fifteen second before Theon tried his next horrifically stupid tactic of seduction.

Robb barely even registered it at first. He was just getting back into focus when he heard metallic clicking. _Click, click, click._

Knowing immediately the cause of the noise, Robb looked up to see Theon smirking brightly with a mental pen in his mouth. He winked again.

“I wouldn’t be shoving pens in my mouth if I were you.” Robb rested his chin on the palm of his hand, watching Theon carefully. “Never know where they’d been.”

“Got something to replace it?”

Robb from the beginning of his relationship with Theon would have turned into a blushing maiden. Now, he could barely contain himself from rolling his eyes.

“I need to work,” Robb turned back to his work.

A second later the spit slick pen was lobbed at him, hitting him on the shoulder before falling to the carpet ground. Robb didn’t even look up, just humming in acknowledgement of the action.

“ _Robb_ ,” Theon groaned, resting his head on the table with a thump. His hands slithered over the table top so his fingers could dance on Robb’s arms. “I’m bored.”

“Entertain yourself.” Robb didn’t push his hands away.

“I’m trying but you have a stick up your ass,” Theon grumbled. Silence came over them and Robb looked up in surprise. He was expecting more from the comment. Theon rolled his eyes. “Make the sexual innuendo yourself.”

“I don’t know what you want from me-”

“You know _exactly_ what I want from you.” Theon pinched his arm from emphasis.

“We aren’t alone,” Robb gestured around them. Granted, the kitchen was empty, but his siblings were still somewhere else in the house.

Theon grinned and Robb instantly realized his mistake. “You didn’t say no!” Theon looked giddy, already standing up, pulling Robb’s arms in the process. “Leave your stuff, we’ll be quick.”

Robb didn’t move, just continued staring.

Theon made an irritated noise in the back of his throat and stomped his feet like a little kid. “Quickie in the bathroom! Now!”

“Will you shut up if I do?” Robb asked. He really did need to finish up his assignment before midnight.

“I’d say you’ll have a 75% chance of that,” Theon clapped his hands as Robb stood up.

“If I do that thing you like?”

Theon eyes gleamed. “Now you are talking about a 90% chance.” Theon threw him another stupid wink.


	28. This Has To Stop Happening [Sansaery + Jon]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The1WeLiveInNow: These Jon catching his siblings in bed are hilarious!! Could you do one where he catches Sansa and Margaery?
> 
> [in the same universe as chapters 13 and 23- this can be read alone, some references to previous chapters]

Jon really couldn’t thank Sansa and Margaery enough for letting him stay at their place until Jon found a new apartment. He just _couldn’t_ be in the space as Theon and Robb right now. It was too awkward and, well, Theon wouldn’t shut his trap. Honestly, Jon wondered how Robb even convinced him that living with Theon Greyjoy would be a good idea, even before all this _stuff_ happened.

And now Arya’s place wasn’t an option because he was still trying to burn _that_ image from his mind. Jon already didn’t like Gendry, now he could never look that kid in the face again.

Sansa was still safe though. She was modest, kind, and sweet. Margaery sharing all those attributes as well. Hell, they had evening tea and talked about politics. Much different than if Jon were at Arya’s where they’d be watching wrestle mania or if he was back with Theon and Robb and he’d have to listen to them bicker.

Honestly, if it wasn’t intrusive and weird, Jon would consider just staying at Sansa and Margaery’s. He truly did adore Sansa and Margaery was great. That is until they had to fucking ruin it like everyone else in the family seemed to be aiming at.

Again, Jon didn’t want to throw the blame on himself because _how could this be his fault?_ It was those damn Gods again. It had to be. How did this happen three times in a row?

Jon just wanted a glass of water. It was the middle of the night and his throat was dry. One sip of water and Jon would have been right back in bed. But no. Now he had new images to scar him, jumbling around in his head and joined the others. Images of Sansa sitting on the kitchen counter with Margaery’s hands between her legs- _fucking Christ, why the kitchen?_

Jon jumped at the knock on his door. It had been ten minutes since Jon had made that fateful trip to the kitchen and walked in on that _scene_.

“Jon?” Gods, Sansa, not now.

Opening the door, he saw Sansa, red in the face and twiddling her thumbs. “Hi.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Jon rubbed his eyes, trying to get the imprinted image out of his head.

“I think we do,” Sansa toyed with her lip. “We thought you’d be asleep.”

Jon crossed his arms tightly over his chest. “You couldn’t have done that in your bedroom?”

“We were just getting some water and got _carried away_.”

_Looked a little more than fucking carried away_. “Ah.” Jon didn’t really have much more to say on the matter.

“Can I ask you something?” Sansa asked quietly.

Jon wanted to say no, because he knew, _just knew_ , it would lead to even more trouble, but he said, “Sure,” with a guarded shrug.

“Was this worse than when you watched Robb and Theon or walked in on Arya and Gendry?”

Jon wasn’t even sure what the fucking address first. The fact that all his siblings were _talking_ about these encounters, the fact that Robb and Theon (but probably just Theon) were advertising it as if Jon had _wanted_ to watch, or the little fact that Sansa wanted to know where she stood on the totem pole of awful images Jon would be scarred of for life.

“I think it would be in our best interest if we just forgot about it all together and never discussed it again,” Jon advised. Sansa nodded her head in agreement. “And that means not telling anyone else.”

A guilt blush came onto Sansa’s face. “Too late.”

Jon paled. “Are you kidding me? This literally happened ten minutes ago!”

“I needed advice on how to approach and Margaery suggested-”

“Oh, _Margaery_ suggested!”

“-that I reached out to someone who went through the same thing!” Sansa cringed.

Jon knew he was going to hate himself further, but he had to know, “Who did you call?”

“Are you going to be mad?”

“If that person is Theon Greyjoy, then yes.”

“…sorry.”

“God-fucking-damn-it.”


	29. Night Out [Throbb + Lenly]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: What about Loras and Renly meeting Theon and Robb for the first time and immediately inviting them to a gay bar BECAUSE THEY’RE TOTALLY TOGETHER EVEN IF THEYARE TOO STUPID TO FIGURE IT OUT YET?

“Okay, they are so into each other, right?” Loras looked back at Renly who was sitting on the couch. “It can’t be just me thinking that.”

Renly lifted his chin to look out the window where their new neighbors were unloading the last of their boxes. Currently, the red haired one was struggling with four of the boxes while the dark haired one with a mouth full of smirks laughed.

“Sure,” Renly shrugged. “But they aren’t dating.”

“How do you know that?” Loras cocked his eyebrow and stared down Renly.

“ _Trust me_ , I know,” Renly stood up and approached his boyfriend, resting his chin on Loras’ shoulder to look out the window. He brushed Loras’ curls out of his face.

“I’m going to lay it out right now for you,” Renly whispered in Loras’ ear. “Check it. Little Red probably realized and matured about his feelings for the other _ages_ ago, but is keeping himself in check because he doesn’t want to ruin a good thing. Their friendship is _too_ important to waste on a possible romantic venture.”

“And the other one?” Loras whispered back. “Smiles?” Renly sniggered at the nickname.

“Probably damaged emotionally.” Renly narrowed his eyes. “Watch, every time Red turns around Smiles gets nervous. Now! Look! Look out he crumbles a little on himself and watches Red.”

Loras didn’t see it, but if Renly did, that was enough for him. Loras knew one thing though. If they weren’t together now, he was going to make it his secret mission to get them together. Not because he felt particularly charitable, he just figured another gay couple in the apartment building wouldn’t be so bad.

“Gods, you are way too much like Margaery,” Renly chuckled, backing away. “Already plotting?”

Loras remained silent for a long moment as he watched Smiles lock up their car before trotting after Red.

“Let’s invite them out.”

* * *

 

Renly smirked as he found Loras at the end of the bar watching Red and Smiles with hawk like vigilance. His eyes were narrowed on Smiles who looked incredible awkward in the new surroundings.

“I think he grew up in homophobia,” Loras remarked as Renly sat beside him. “He’s uncomfortable.”

“Well, not everyone can just jump head first into _Flaming Fridays_ at the _Rainbow Room_ ,” Renly smiled as he wrapped an arm around Loras’ shoulders. “That takes some time getting used to. Now what?”

“What do you mean?” Loras didn’t take his eyes away from Red and Smiles.

“Don’t tell me your master plan was simply taking them to a gay bar,” Renly rolled his eyes. “Margaery will be thoroughly disappointed in you.”

“Shut up,” Loras pouted. “Just give them time and alcohol. Smiles is already tittering on the edge. Someone makes any kind of look at Red, Smiles is going to go into over-protective boyfriend mode. Sit back and watch.”

“You think it is that simple?” Renly grinned at Loras’ vested interest.

“I think so,” Loras nodded. “Wait! Look!” Loras gripped Renly’s knee tightly to grab his attention. “Biceps is coming over to Red.”

“You should call them by their proper names,” Renly replied coolly but watched anyways as the man Loras dubbed “Biceps” approached Robb or Red, whichever you preferred, and started up a conversation, seemingly amicable and light hearted. Well, only if you were looking at Biceps and Red. If you looked at Smiles, you would have thought Red’s life had just been threatened.

“I bet he is going to punch him,” Loras gambled. “Bet me.”

“You always lose these bets,” Renly shook his head.

“Not this time,” Loras nudged him. “Bet me.”

“Fine, I bet you…” Renly observed Theon Greyjoy for a long moment, “I think he’ll kiss Red.”

“Screw you,” Loras muttered. “That’s not happening. Not yet,” Loras stated determinedly. “He can’t even look at us holding hands without skiving out.”

“You sure it’s because of that or because he can’t do it with Red?” Renly chimed in. “Food for thought.”

“Shut up and watch the show.” Loras leaned forward and Renly’s hand slid from his shoulders down to his lower back. “Getting ideas?”

“Figured that’s what we were better about,” Renly grinned, but his eyes were glued to the scheme before him.

In the end, Loras was half-right. Biceps shouldn’t have laid a hand on Red, not that Red was the one who minded. Smiles did though and Smiles made it _known_. It wasn’t so much of a punch, but it was a push. (“Physical altercations all count!” “No, you said punch, loser.”)

Regardless if the push counted as a punch, Red didn’t like that and soon the two were arguing. Red dragged Smiles out of the bar and Renly and Loras decided to politely and modestly wait a whole twenty seconds before following them out.

With the sight before them, Renly grinned widely and Loras soured, although he was happy that Red and Smiles finally manned up and kissed each other.

“Oh, hey,” Robb noticed them first and blushed brightly.

Theon looked like he was suffocating until Robb grabbed his hand.

“I win,” Renly murmured into Loras’ ears.

Loras, not willing to accept defeat, asked, “So who kissed who? Smiles or Red?”

“Smiles?” Theon choked while Robb blushed as his nickname implied. “Red?”


	30. Never Had A Chance [Jon/Ygritte]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: 44 for Jon and Ygritte?  
> 44: “If you die, I’m going to kill you.”
> 
> [potential for longer fic]

_No,_ Ygritte thought as she pushed her way thought the growing crowd. _No, no! This was all wrong! This couldn’t be! This couldn’t be it! This-_

But there it was- _no_ , there _he_ was. Just beyond the yellow police tape and flashing lights. Ygritte knew she shouldn’t come any closer. She wasn’t exactly in favor of the law, hadn’t been for a long time but she couldn’t leave him like that. Not as the rain began to come and more spectators got a look at him.

It was supposed to be the last score. Ygritte was going to make everything right. Her little crow told her so. Years of living in a crime-ridden world, who knew it would be some pretty boy detective to try pulling her out and making things right. Who knew Jon Snow could make things right?

Except things weren’t right because her pretty crow was bleeding to death on the pavement and she was still on the _wrong side_ of the police tape. Reason told her to stay away. Those arrest warrants were still in place. Her heart told her otherwise. _There still was a chance. There had to be!_

Ygritte made the final decision, which happened to be a hard shove to the on-watcher, before ducking below the tape and sprinting for it, for him. Behind her, she could hear the yelling of a police man but she didn’t care.

She could see him now and that was all that mattered.

He was crumpled on the ground, only fifty feet from where she had last saw him an hour ago. She could still see the spot, well within the police tape circle. It was the light post they agreed to meet after Ygritte finished _this fucking game_. Turns out the game couldn’t end when one of the pieces was down for the count. All the work they did, the countless nights of planning and analysis, the danger they put themselves in, their families in, their happiness in, all down the drain with a few shots of a glock.

Maybe that had been the plan all along. Maybe this whole cat and mouse game Ygritte thought they were planning was just a ruse so they could put three bullets in his chest and watch Ygritte take the fall for it all. She remembered Mance’s warning words right before he was sent to the chair, _“Never trust a Thenn no more than you would trust crow.”_ She should have taken his word more seriously. Unfortunately if she had, then she would have never met Jon, but maybe that was for the best. She shouldn’t have been so naïve to think she could beat them at this game with just her and her crow-

She slid on the pavement, her knees scrapping as she came to his collapsed form. His eyes were glued shut and his mouth just barely opened. A pool of dark blood surrounded him and it only got worse with time. A small stream from trickling from his mouth.

“Snow,” Ygritte whimpered, her hands shakily coming to his face, wiping the dried blood away. He was as cold as ice-no, snow. He would have found the humor in that in a twisted way. “No, no, come on! Wake up!”

“Ma’am.” A firm hand came to her shoulder but she knocked it off with a deep snarl, her eyes still locked on her pretty crow.

“Jon, _please_ , wake up. Don’t you dare fucking die on me. Not now, not here. Not when we were _so_ close.” A wetness came to her cheeks but Ygritte swiped it away. She could cry, not yet, not when there was still a chance. “ _Jon!_ If you die, I’m going to kill you!” Her words were lost on the fresh corpse before her.

Her hands went to his hair, pulling and tugging trying to get a reaction, any reaction out of him. There was nothing. The blood that was pooling around him began to soak the knees of her jeans.

The police officer at her shoulder attempted to pull her up but she clawed at him like a feral beast. She knew what would happen now. She had doomed herself the minute she came across the police barrier.

Oh hell, who was she kidding? She doomed herself the minute she laid eyes on Jon Snow all those months ago. She condemned herself when she let him whisper sweet words of “second chances” and “starting anew.” She signed her death certificate with their first kiss and might as well have bought her grave plot when she heard him _swear_ they would make it through this and have a life together.

The truth was they never had a fucking chance.


	31. Knowing [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: 45 throbb?
> 
> 45: “Tell me a secret.”

“That’s not true,” Robb rolled his eyes, nudging Theon’s leg with his own.

They were outside, sitting beneath the large tree in his backyard, the red leaves casting an amber glow on them. It was evening, but there was still plenty of warm sun light, even though the day was brisk and they (mostly Theon) were bundled up.

“Completely true, Stark,” Theon snorted. “You’re an open book. I know everything there is to know.”

“I have mystery!” Robb exclaimed but Theon just cackled. Gods, his boyfriend was an idiot. “I do! You don’t know everything about me.”

“Yeah, I do,” Theon’s eyes danced with a challenge. “Quiz me.”

Robb sat up and turned so his knees were pressed against Theon’s thigh. Theon smirked as Robb pouted. “Fine, how’d I get this?” Robb held his right hand up, showing a long thin scar across his palm. It was now faded with years but Theon knew it well enough.

“Snow cut you with scissors when you were eight-Wait, no! Seven, you were seven because that was also the year we went to the aquarium and your hand was bandaged during that.” Theon nodded his head confidently. “I have a picture from that day on my desk.”

Rather than being thrilled by Theon’s memory or the fact that he still had that dorky picture of them with squid hats on, Robb’s frown deepened. “What about my first fist fight-”

“Are we talking an actual fist fight, like when you punched the lights out of Joffrey Baratheon for hurting your sister,” Theon interrupted Robb’s question, “or that time in the second grade when you and tackled one of the Karstark brothers because he made fun of me but you barely hurt him because you were a god-awful fighter back then?”

Robb looked down right furious. “Damn it!” Theon grinned brightly. “Fine, uh-”

Theon decided this process would go much faster he if just said everything for Robb. “First time you got kissed was by sweet little Roslin Frey in the sixth grade and you cried because you didn’t like her and thought you had to date her.” Robb went bright red at the memory. Theon would have laughed but he continued onward. “First blow job was from Jeyne and from what I heard it wasn’t all that great-”

“What do you mean from what you heard?” Robb paled.

“Bro, I was driving the car and you two weren’t exactly quiet or sneaky, as much as you seemed to think you were. Trust me; I know my way around a cock. She didn’t know what she was doing.”

“Is that your weird way of saying you would have done much better?” Robb raised an eyebrow. Robb could actually attest Theon was much better, granted there was a good six year difference between the two experiences.

“Only if you gave me the chance back then,” Theon winked. “Oh, first male crush was Loras Tyrell, which I’m still a little offended by because have you _seen_ him? I mean, look at me and then look at him.”

“Didn’t you and Renly go out?” Robb smirked.

“For drinks. I still _liked_ you,” Theon shrugged with tense shoulders, although that diminished as Robb dropped his head to Theon’s shoulder, his red curls tickling at Theon’s neck.

“Fine, tell me a secret, if you got one.” It was a taunt. Theon thought he knew it all. Close, but not quite.

Robb grinned. “Okay, well, first you were wrong. Loras Tyrell was my _third_ male crush.”

Theon glanced down at him. “Don’t tell me I’m fourth.”

“No,” Robb pinched his side. “You’re second.”

The smile that had been teasing at Theon’s lips dropped. He wasn’t please with that answer. “ _Second?_ Wait, who is first?”

“You don’t know?” Robb whistled. “I thought you knew everything.”

“Fine, you want to prove your damn point,” Theon hissed, “I know _almost_ everything about you. Now, who is it?”

Robb could barely keep his giggling at bay. “Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing,” Theon grumbled.

“Lance Bass.”

Theon’s eyebrows pinched together as he looked up at the sky for an answer. “Who the fuck is that?”

Another fit of giggles rose from Robb’s chest. “You know the band NSYNC?”

“You and Sansa used to listen to them,” Theon remembered dully.

“I had a little crush on him,” Robb shrugged nonchalantly. “I was what? Eight? Nine?”

“Hold up,” Theon nudged Robb off his shoulder and turned to look down at him. “Isn’t Justin Timberlake in that band?”

“Yes.”

“Why the fuck would you have a crush on Lance Bass instead of the other dude?” Theon raised his eyebrows. Robb burst out into more laughter.


	32. Undercover [Throbb] NSFW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Prompt! Throbb: Theon really wants to try a new sex toy on Robb… In public, secretly :P absolutely anywhere, any situation, the more embarrassed Robb is, the better!

“I can’t believe you made me do this,” Robb muttered, shifting uncomfortably as they stood in the living room of his _family_ home.

Theon’s grinning like Rickon on Christmas morning. “It’s only three hours, Robb. You can handle it, and if- no, when you do, I’ll make it up to you, make it worth your while.”

He was leering at Robb which only made the situation under his clothing more strained. Robb swallowed thickly, trying not to move so nothing shifted inside of him.

Yes. Theon had the absolutely _brilliant_ idea of trying out his new toys on Robb. Right now. At his fucking Sunday family dinner. Robb only had the cock harness on for thirty minutes and the vibrating balls in him for even less and Robb wasn’t sure he gave a fuck if it was Theon’s birthday request or not anymore.

Every time he moved, the harness felt like it grew tighter and the two, inch-big vibrating balls inside him moves around, rubbing against each other, all the while they were kept on a low vibration setting curtsey of the remote in Theon’s pocket.

“You’re doing fine,” Theon purred as he straightened Robb’s tie, his hand skirting down Robb’s chest slightly until it drift towards Robb’s cock, brushing it gently before pulling away all together. Robb’s breath caught in his throat and embarrassment flooded to his cheeks to make sure no one had seen that.

“ _Gods,_ ” Robb groaned, begging Theon with his best puppy eyes, “isn’t it enough that I’m doing this? Do you have to keep touching me?”

“Come on, _babe_ ,” Theon’s eyes trailed down Robb’s body, “this is half the fun.”

“Robb!” Rickon raced up to Robb, tackling him into a hug. It took all Robb had not to whimper as the two balls moved inside him and vibrated against his prostate. He did shudder but Rickon didn’t notice in his excitement, _thank fuck._

“Rickon,” Robb greeted breathlessly, trying to hold his youngest brother away so they didn’t end up wrestling. Sweat was already collecting on his brow.

“Come on,” Rickon grabbed Robb’s hand, yanking him forward harshly. Robb bit back the groan that came along with every sudden movement. “I want to show you this new trick I taught Shaggy.”

“Okay!” Robb yelped as Theon administered a light slap to his ass. It was barely even a touch, but it was enough to get the two balls moving again and Robb felt his knees buckle slightly. Rickon barely noticed as he continued to pull Robb away. Theon watched smugly as they left.

* * *

Robb made it an hour and a half through dinner before it became too much. He had been doing better once they were at the dinner table. If he refrained from moving too much, everything below his clothing was put to a rest. Apparently, that wasn’t good enough for Theon who, after the salad, turned up the vibrations making Robb jump and start choking on the water he was drinking.

Like the dutiful boyfriend Theon was, he had come to Robb’s aid. One hand rubbed his lower back and the other squeezing his knee. Robb wanted to tell his off because _damn it, couldn’t Theon just stop this torture?_ But he couldn’t risk bring light on their little situation. Robb already felt like his family _knew_ what was going on. Every time Jon or Sansa gave him a questioning look, every time Bran and Arya yanked at his arms, every time Rickon bounced on his lap. Every goddamn time Theon gave his cock a stroke from under the table. He was going to lose it. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could go.

Then his darling mother asked the one question Robb knew he couldn’t answer with a straight face.

“Are you okay, honey? You look flush? Are you ill?”

Robb couldn’t even answer as he got up from the table and raced to the nearest bathroom. He barely had the peace of mind to close the door as he slumped forward on the counter, his arms barely being able to hold him up. He was going to kill Theon, he really was. He was fine doing these things. Hell, he was fine doing them in public. It would be a lie if he said he didn’t enjoy these simulations just as much as Theon did, but _not_ in front of his _family_.

Robb registered that the door opened but couldn’t get him to look up as to who had entered. It turns out he didn’t need to as two arms slithered around his waist and pulled him back against a hard chest.

“Are you okay?” There was worry in Theon’s voice, a fear he might have pushed too far.

“I’m fine,” Robb swallowed, allowing him to lean full on Theon, despite the added pressure that came from the movement on the two balls.

Theon read the lie in Robb’s voice. “Want me to remove the beads?” The high pitched whimper that Robb answered with was not one of his finer moments. Chuckling, Theon already had his hands on Robb’s pants, shoving them down to his knees. “Brace yourself on the counter.”

Robb did as he was instructed, biting his lip to keep any noises he had going at by. The _last_ thing he needed was his family to hear the entire process from the dinner table. This whole night was already embarrassing enough as it was.

Robb felt Theon’s hands move from his hips over his ass cheeks. He massaged them, taking his damn sweet time before spreading them. Robb waited in anticipation for the still vibrating balls to be removed.

Rather than remove something from his ass, Theon decided to prolong this a bit further.

Robb nearly cried out as Theon’s tongue joined the mix, curling around as much as he could inside Robb’s already stuffed ass.

“ _God-damn-it_ ,” Robb groaned around the fist he had to shove in his mouth to keep himself quiet. Theon hummed, shaking Robb even more. “We have- _fuck_ -to get back _-good lord, Theon_ \- to the dinner table.”

Theon removed his face and soon his tongue was replaced by a finger, pushing and moving the two heavy balls around, just for a moment. Robb’s chest collapsed on the counter, his arms no longer able to hold him up right.

Finally, _finally_ , Theon was done playing with his body and began the process of removing the balls. He took his sweet time in doing so, but Robb just wanted to cry in relief as Theon finally began working on it.

Theon had gotten one ball out before a knock came to the door. Thank gods Theon had the right of mind to lock it. Robb could only imagine the horror that his family would go through if _any_ of them found him like this.

Rather than continuing to help Robb out, Theon was up and at the door. Robb wanted to protest, get Theon back there to _help him_. But he answer the door instead, opening it just wide enough to stick his head out, shielding the lewd image of Robb over the counter, one ball still in his ass and the other hanging out and his cock straining against the harness.

“Are you guys okay?” Sansa’s sweet little voice asked. Robb wanted to cry.

“Yeah, he’s sick. We are probably just going to head home,” Theon responded, worry being added into his tone to pull the lie off.

“I’ll let mom know.”

Theon closed the door and was behind Robb in an instant, removing the other ball that had been pulling at his ass with the weight of the first one hanging freely.

“Let’s get you home,” Theon rumbled in Robb’s ear. “You can get the harness off once we get home.”

Decency was out the window and all Robb could do was nod and whimper in response.

Let it be known that once they were home, once the harness was off, once Robb finally got to come, he made sure Theon paid for the torture he put Robb through.


	33. Sing For Me [Throbb + Starks]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Theon singing to different Starks! (bonus: Throbb???)

**Sansa**

Sansa hissed at the biting of the guitar strings on her fingers. It hurt, but she had to play through the pain if she ever wanted to be any good at it. She knew it was how she’d get calluses, but she wished it wasn’t so painful.

“What’re you playing?” Theon asked, stepping out of the Stark house to the patio where Sansa was playing. Arya complained about the music last week and Sansa was trying to be accommodating.

“Johnny Cash’s _I Walk The Line_ ,” she spat out dully. She wanted to learn something she _liked_ not what her music teacher wanted which was _only_ Johnny Cash songs.

“He’s not bad,” Theon shrugged, settling beside her.

“Why aren’t you inside with Robb?” Sansa narrowed her eyes.

“My sister is coming in a few and she doesn’t like waiting on me while Robb says his long winded goodbyes. He got done early this time.”

Sansa nodded her head and looked back at her music sheet. “Robb just likes you a lot.”

Theon chuckled. “I know.”

Sansa glanced slyly at him. “Do you like him?”

Theon rolled his eyes and stole her guitar. “This is nice,” he gestured to the instrument. “You get this for your birthday?” Sansa nodded her head as she watched Theon position it.

“You know how to play?”

Theon snorted. “One song. Maron had a guitar once so I managed to learn a song before he found out and…well, let’s see if I still know it.”

Sansa watched in fascination as Theon began to clumsily strum the guitar. It took a couple of tries before he found his footing but once he got the tune he was playing smoothly. He was alright, not great but not the worst thing to ever grace the Earth. Sansa jumped in surprised when he started singing. 

_“I sense a runner in the garden,_

_Although my judgments known to fail,_

_Once built a steamboat in a meadow_

_‘Cause I’d forgotten how to sail.”_

Sansa watched in utter amazement. She knew Greyjoy had a nice voice (she’d heard Jeyne recall it in fitful bursts of joy) but she didn’t know he had a nice _singing_ voice.

_“I know the runner’s going to tell you,_

_There ain’t no cowboy in my hair_

_So now he’d buried by the daisies_

_So I could stay the tallest man in your eyes, babe.”_

Sansa blinked. Did he just say what she thought he was saying?

Theon stopped playing, looking up with a crooked smirk. “It’s a song about murders.”

“I gathered,” Sansa frowned in confusion. “A love song about murders.”

Theon winked as his sister’s car pulled up. He passed the guitar back and stood up. As he began walking away, Sansa heard him singing once more.

_“I’m a gardener I’m a man,_

_In your eyes babe.”_

* * *

**Bran**

Bran woke up, beady eyed and stiff. It took one glance down to his legs to know where he was and why. _The hospital-the car crash of metal warping around metal-“never going to walk again.”_

Bran looked and was surprised to see Robb and Theon sitting there. Robb’s head was balancing precariously on Theon’s shoulder. He was sleeping but the dark circles under his eyes clued Bran into thinking this must have been the first time in a long while that Robb had gotten any sleep.

“You’re up,” Theon observed. He looked more rested than Robb, but still noticeably tired.

“Where is everyone?” Bran asked weakly, his throat dry from lack of water. Theon pointed to the bedside table where a glass was waiting for him.

“Your dad is getting something to eat with Snow while your mom drove Sansa, Arya and Rickon home. She’ll be back in an hour or so. They thought you would be asleep longer.”

Silence came over the pair. Bran watched as Theon carefully settled back in the chair, cautious not to jolt Robb or wake him.

“It’s too quiet in here,” Theon muttered a moment later.

Bran agreed. The only noise they could hear was the collective beeping of the machines. “Wish we had some music.”

A funny smile came to Theon’s face. “I’d get my phone out for you but I don’t want him waking up again. Asshole talked my ear off for the past ten hours, wouldn’t even let me sleep.”

Bran gave Theon a weak smile, the closest thing he had been able to get to since the crash. “You could sing.” It was a joke, to keep the mood light.

“You like Elton John, right?” Theon raised an eyebrow. Bran nodded his head confused. He watched as Theon thought for a moment before deciding something in his head.

_"Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band,_

_Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you’ll marry a music man.”_

Bran’s eyes widened for a moment and Theon paused, checking silently to see if this was okay. Bran nodded his head quickly to get Theon too continued. He wasn’t so bad.

_"Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand,_

_And now she’s in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand.”_

At least now Bran couldn’t hear the beeping machines. A small smile came back to his face as Theon sang through the song. Theon was many stupid and sometimes rude things, but this was _nice_.

* * *

  **Cat +** **Ned**

Catelyn poked her head into Ned’s study. Her eyes wide and a faint smile on her lips. Ned watched as she silently and slowly waved him over to follow her. Not quite understanding the behavior, Ned followed with curiosity getting the better of him.

As he stepped out of his study, his wife grabbed his hand lightly and tugged him forward. Cat led him through the house, slowly and cautiously. He noticed she was approaching the guest bathroom where he could faintly hear the shower going.

As they got closer, Ned realized it wasn’t just running water he was hearing, but a voice:

_“Αγωνία με λαχτάρα να σε νοιάζομαι,_

_αγωνία δυστυχώς να σε μοιράζομαι.”_

Ned didn’t have a clue as to what Theon was singing, but it definitely wasn’t English. Perhaps, Greek or Italian. He vaguely remembered knowing the Greyjoys were from that region.

The look on Cat’s face as Theon continued to slow drawn out song could only be described as astonishment. Ned knew she didn’t view Theon in always the highest regards, but it looked like his voice had changed that, even if it was only momentary.

“Come on,” Ned urged as Theon moved onto a different song, yet another Greek one of the same style, “let’s give the boy from privacy.”

* * *

  **Arya**

Arya was going to choke Theon Greyjoy.

_“Mama, just killed a man!”_

Seriously, if she had to listen to him sing this damn song one more time, _she_ was going to kill him.

_“Put a gun against his head,_

_Pulled my trigger, now he’s dead!”_

Theon drove her to fencing lesson ever Friday when Robb had club meetings which meant every Friday she had to listen to Theon’s awful rendition of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody. Well, not really awful because he had a _good_ singing voice. She just wished he’d be a bit more open to his music choices. He could sing something else!

_“Mama, life had just begun,_

_But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away!”_

“Will you stop?” Arya groaned. She knew he planned it so that he could sing the whole entire thing before they got there. He did this thing on purpose to piss her off, she knew it. The one time he screwed up the timing, he made her wait in the car until he finished the damn song.

_“Mama, ooo,_

_Didn’t mean to make you cry,_

_If I’m not back again this time tomorrow,_

_Carry on, carry on, but nothing really matters!”_

Burying her face in her hands, Arya knew the only thing she could do was wait it out.

* * *

  **Rickon**

Rickon grinned up at his babysitter. Out of all his brother and sisters’ significant others, Theon was his favorite. Not that he’d ever tell Ygritte that because she was a lot of fun too. But Theon had simply just been around the longest, his whole life actually!

Which is the only reason the Starks trusted Theon to watch over Rickon for the weekend while they dealt with some familial issues in the south. It didn’t help that Rickon was sick too, but Theon knew what to do.

It was nighttime now but Rickon wasn’t ready to sleep, no matter how much Theon tried to convince him.

“Read me a story!” Rickon exclaimed, hoping to buy more time with that.

Unfortunately, because Theon had been around so long he knew the all of Rickon’s tricks and shook his head. “Not happening, but nice try.”

Pouting, Rickon snugged deeper into the blankets. “But I’m not tired.”

“Well, tough shi-luck, kid. Tough luck,” Theon rolled his eyes. “Look, your mom said nine and it is almost ten, so you need to sleep. Now.”

“Sing me a song,” Rickon spat out, his own form of defiance because Theon wouldn’t actually do it.

Well, Rickon miscalculated.

“Will you actually go to sleep if I do?”

Rickon instantly nodded his head. “Yes, yes!”

“Okay,” Theon sat on the edge of Rickon’s bed. “Settle in.”

Rickon did as he was told and watched as Theon found a fixed point ahead of him in the room and began to sing:

_“Serve God, love me and mend,_

_This is not the end,_

_Lived unbruised, we are friends,_

_And I’m sorry,_

_I’m sorry.”_

Rickon watched as Theon sang, keeping his voice light and quiet, so Rickon could drift to sleep. And it was working. Rickon’s eyes grew heavy and he put in effort to keep them open.

_“Sign no more, no more,_

_One foot in sea, one on shore,_

_My heart was never pure,_

_You know me,_

_You know me.”_

Theon barely got to the next set of lines when Rickon passed out.

* * *

  **Jon**

Theon was a drunken mess and Jon wasn’t sure how it became _his_ responsibility to make sure the guy didn’t kill himself trying to get home. Yet here he was with Theon in the back seat of his car, giggling like a five year old.

“’hank you,” Theon slurred, pulling himself into a sitting position, his long arms draping over the driver’s seat and around Jon in a weird hug of sorts. “You are the bes’.”

Jon wished he could record the moment for future generations. Theon would die of embarrassment.

“Okay.” Jon took one hand off the wheel to shove Theon’s arms off him before Theon accidently started choking him. Although, Jon would have the vague suspicion that it wasn’t all that accidental.

The giggling resumed and Jon wished Robb wasn’t busy and _he_ could be here instead. It was his shitty boyfriend anyways, not Jon’s.

“’Can we list’n to the rad’o?” Theon asked, his hands once again slithering around to poke Jon.

“If you stay back there,” Jon hissed as he swatted Theon’s hands back.

Another deep chuckle. “M’kay, Snow.”

The arms retreated and Jon rewarded the good behavior with turning on the radio. He had it set to a classic rock station and the car was suddenly filled with the Rolling Stones. Theon went quiet and Jon thanked his lucky stars.

He spoke too soon.

_“It’s three a.m., there’s too much noise,_

_Don’t you people ever wanna go to bed?”_

Jon froze and looked in the rear view mirror and sure enough Theon was sitting there, feet lounging across the back with his head tilted back.

_“’Cause you feel so good,_

_Do you have to drive me out of my head?”_

Great, because Greyjoy _wasn’t_ annoying enough as it was.

_“I said, “Hey, you, get off of my cloud,_

_Hey, you, get off of my cloud.”_

At least he wasn’t that bad.

* * *

  **Robb**

Robb had known for years. He had heard the tales from his siblings (even his parents) of Theon’s sweet songs but had never had them sung directly to him. Robb figured it was something his boyfriend was self-conscious about so he never pushed or questioned it. But he wanted it. He wanted Theon to sing for him, and him alone. Just once.

So that night, Robb set to motion his plan. It was his time to experience the wonder his family had and get to open up that little part of Theon. He wanted it so bad, had for years.

He had brought Theon to their bed in the usual manner, made him beg and tremble beneath him and stroked him through until he was nice and sated. Robb figured Theon would be much more willing and cooperative if he was calm, sated, and sleepy.

Robb waited until Theon and he had gotten their breaths back. Theon was lying on his back, his chest rising minuscule now. Robb, who had been previously on his side, turned to lie on Theon’s stomach, his chin resting on Theon’s chest and his arms bracketing him on their sides. Theon raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not ready for another go, if that’s what you are thinking,” Theon brought his hands to Robb’s hair, dragging his fingers across the scalp. “Give me at least five minutes, Stark. Not all of us are brimming with energy today.”

“No,” Robb shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving Theon’s. “I want you to sing for me.”

Despite his phrasing being calm and casual, Theon stiffened beneath him. Robb let his fingers drift to Theon’s bare hips and petted them gently, drawing small circles to keep Theon calm and complacent. He waited too long for this to have Theon chicken out on him.

“I know,” Robb continued. “I wish you’d sing for me like you do everyone else.”

Theon went to protest but the fight left his eyes almost instantly as Robb kissed his chest. “What do you want me to sing for you?”

Robb grinned brightly, pressing another kiss to Theon’s chest. “Anything, you know what I like.”

“I ain’t singing Sinatra,” Theon sneered, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Fine,” Robb shrugged. “Give me some Martin then.”

A touch of that same smirk came to his lips but he complied.

_"When marimba rhythms start to play,_

_Dance with me, make me sway.”_

Robb’s eyes closed, sighing as Theon continued to pet his hair and sing.

_“Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore,_

_Hold me close, sway me more.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs are:
> 
> The Gardener- The Tallest Man On Earth  
> Tiny Dancer- Elton John  
> Agonia- Tolis Voskopoulos  
> Sigh No More- Mumford and Sons  
> Bohemian Rhapsody- Queen  
> Get Off Of My Cloud- The Rolling Stones  
> Sway- Dean Martin


	34. Sweet [Brojen]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Brojen, 50
> 
> 50: Writer’s Preference
> 
> Decided just to write plotless cooking fluff.

One look at the recipe and Jojen knew it was going to be a bad idea. One look at Bran’s pleading face and Jojen knew they were going to do it anyways.

“Crème Brule?” Jojen scanned the recipe cautiously. While it wasn’t particularly challenging, he didn’t have much faith in their cooking skills. Bran and he weren’t exactly what you would call ‘cooks’ or ‘competent in the kitchen’ but they were try-ers and apparently that was enough.

“For my parents’ anniversary,” Bran took the recipe back and scanned it himself. “Usually Sansa is the one to cover the dessert but she is studying abroad in France so-”

“And your other siblings can’t do it?” Jojen asked, but immediately knew the answer.

Bran chortled. “Arya? She’d burn the kitchen down. Not because she is a horrible cook, but she much rather not do it. Rickon…it’s best we don’t let him use the kitchen until he can clean up after himself.”

“He’s nearly eighteen,” Jojen reminded.

“My point still stands,” Bran drawled. “Jon and Robb _might_ get away with it.”

“I feel a ‘but’ coming on,” Jojen muttered.

“ _But_ it’s not likely.”

Jojen smirked at Bran as he opened the refrigerator and grabbed all their eggs. “And you’re the best one for the job?”

“You make it sound like I am doing this all by myself,” Bran cocked an eyebrow. “ _We_ are the best _ones_ for the job,” he emphasized each point so Jojen knew what he’d spend the afternoon doing.

“Alright,” Jojen rolled up his sleeves, “where do we start?”

Bran grinned brightly. “Start the oven and grab that pot, babe.”

And things began good- great even. They got a nice consistency with the custard and managed to fill the ramekins without spilling a drop. They didn’t over cook the egg mixture and when they pulled the custards out of the oven, they were _prefect_. Or as perfect as they could be for a first try, which was enough by their standards.

It was when Bran introduced the blowtorch that Jojen began to feel ebbs of doubt.

“Do you know how to use that?” Jojen asked, holding the sugar in his hands as he regarded the blow torch in Bran’s.

“How hard can it be? It’s one trigger! That’s it,” Bran smiled, flicking on the torch for punctuate his point.

“Why do I feel like we are going to regret this?” Jojen sighed, but sprinkled the sugar on the custards anyways. “At least we have six to try on.”

“Which means we get to have some when they inevitably turn out amazing!” Bran exclaimed, already leaning forward with the torch to melt the sugar.

Long story short: It did not turn out inevitably amazing.

* * *

 

One look at the finished product and Jojen knew he had been right in thinking this was going to be a bad idea. One look at Bran’s face and Jojen knew that he should clean up and head to the bakery on 3rd St. so he could pick something up because what they made was simply not _servable_.


	35. Playing Around [Theon + Ygritte + Margaery + Gendry]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> guest: Can I request some bonding time between the Stark Club Lovers gang as in Theon, Marg, Ygritte, Gendry, and gang please?
> 
> [I love this prompt. I miss my To Love A Stark Gang <3]

“Why do I have to leave?” Jon groaned as Ygritte pushed him through the apartment. In the living room, Theon was lounging on their couch while Gendry and Margaery found solace on the armchair, sharing it rather than fighting with Theon for space on the couch.

“Because no one likes you,” Theon sneered, not even bothering to look up at Jon as he passed by.

Margaery tossed a pillow in Jon’s defense. Gendry said nothing. _Way to join my shit list_ , Jon thought bitterly.

“ _Because_ ,” Ygritte spun him around and peck him on the lips, “you aren’t a part of the club.”

“Might be a little weird if you were,” Margaery admitted with a snarky smile.

“Where am I supposed to go?” Jon asked and immediately threw Theon a silencing glare. He didn’t want to hear that asshole’s smart ideas.

“I set up a little date with you and Sam,” Ygritte rolled her eyes.

“And Arya,” Gendry added.

“And Robb!” Theon chimed in.

“Sansa had better things to do,” Margaery shrugged. “Girls day with Jeyne, I believe, which you are more than welcomed to join.”

With one final shove, Jon was out the door and Ygritte locked the door for safe measure. Coming back to the living room she fell onto the couch, Theon pulling his legs away before Ygritte sat on them.

“Alright,” Margaery clapped her hands together excitedly. “I believe it was your turn this week.” Her eyes were on Gendry and the small brown bag at his feet.

“Is it alcoholic?” Theon asked, looking at Gendry with his head hanging off the couch.

“No,” Gendry frowned as he opened the bag and pulled out the _Sorry!_ board game.

Theon groaned upon seeing it, spreading his legs over Ygritte’s lap. “Really?” Ygritte pushed his legs off.

“It’s the only game I own!” Gendry yelped in self-defense. “I wasn’t exactly banking on winning _Uno!_ last week.” Not only had he won, but he _crushed_ them. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t get sweet satisfaction from it.

“Like you should be talking,” Ygritte smirked at Theon. “ _Ring of Fire_ isn’t even really a game.”

“And it is definitely a game we shouldn’t be playing on Thursday afternoons,” Margaery added coolly.

Sitting up, Theon rolled his shoulders. “Whatever, let’s play.”

“I call red pieces!” Margaery grinned mischievously. “They are my lucky color.” Margaery literally always fought for the red game pieces ever week.

“Like your lover’s hair,” Ygritte winked as well as admiring her own red locks.

“Ew,” Theon wrinkled his nose.

“Robb has red hair too,” Gendry added but resumed to setting up the board game at Theon’s glare. Once the game was set, Gendry sat cross legged on the other side of the table across from Ygritte and Theon.

“Just so you know,” Ygritte claimed the blue pieces and forced the green ones on Theon, “I’m amazing at this game and I’m going to kick all your asses to high heaven.”

“You literally say that about every game we play,” Gendry grinned as he toyed with one of his yellow men. “You’ve lost every single one of them.”

“It’s also a game of chance?” Margaery’s lips twitched up. “You just have to be lucky.”

“I am lucky, damn it! I’m going to win, mark my words,” Ygritte glared at each person. “Then _I_ get to pick the game.”

“What game do you have in mind?” Margaery asked, her eyebrows rose in curiosity.

“You’ve probably never heard of it,” Ygritte waved off. “Let’s just say all we need for it is a butcher’s knife, two cups-”

“No!” Gendry looked appalled. “Hell. No. We are not playing that.”

“You didn’t even let me explain!” Ygritte yelped.

“It doesn’t really matter though, does it?” Theon shook his head teasingly. “I mean, before we can play your creepy wildling game you’d have to _win_ a game. It’s actually kind of sad you haven’t won one yet and we’ve been doing this for what? A year and a half now?”

“Even Greyjoy has won a few times and he doesn’t even try,” Gendry pointed out. Theon nodded in agreement.

“I’m going to win this time!” Ygritte vowed.

She didn’t.


	36. Staying [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: prompt 47 with Throbb maybe????
> 
> 47: “No one needs to know.”

“Robb, how are you going to explain this?” Theon asked exasperatedly as Robb ignored him in favor of dragging the suit case (actually Robb’s but filled with Theon’s limited possessions).

“I’m not,” Robb grumbled, straining against the heavy suit case as he dragged it up the stairs of the front porch.

“I think your family going to ask questions,” Theon trotted behind him. He left the trunk of Robb’s car open so he could reverse this. There was still time to fix it all.

“Let them, I’m not answering,” Robb growled. He set down the suit case to dig through his pocket. Once his keys were in his hand, he began unlocking the door. He only stopped once to slap Theon’s hands away from the suit case with the silent reprimand.

“Robb, I’m serious-”

“So am I.” Robb turned to face Theon fully, using the slight height advantage to tower over him. “Are we clear?”

Theon felt himself nodded. The look in Robb’s eyes was enough to shut him down.

Robb opened the door and grabbed the suitcase. “Close the car up and let’s go.”

Theon, hesitantly, did as he was told, grabbing his backpack from the front seat and locking up Robb car. He joined Robb at the door, the latter closing it silently behind them.

It was the middle of the night and the Stark house was deadly silent. Robb led Theon up the familiar path to his room, looking back every now and then to make sure Theon didn’t split, not that he would. Once they were in his bedroom, Robb set Theon’s stuff down and had Theon wrapped up in his arms tightly against his chest.

Theon stiffened, despite being used to Robb’s over-affection. Slowly, he let his hands wind around Robb and he buried his face into Robb’s neck. It had been a long, tiring day. He just wanted to forget about it and push thoughts on what he was going to do for tomorrow. Robb was comfort. Robb was home.

“He’s wrong, you know,” Robb murmured against Theon’s hairline. “There isn’t anything wrong with you.”

Theon swallowed roughly, pulling himself closer to Robb. “’Doesn’t matter.”

Robb backed away, his hands still firmly planted on Theon’s shoulders. “Let’s just go to bed and-”

"Shouldn’t we tell your family, at least your dad?” Theon shifted uncomfortable.

“Tomorrow,” Robb shrugged off. “You spend the night all the time.”

“Spending the night indefinitely is a bit different,” Theon locked eyes with Robb. “We can’t just pretend that didn’t-”

“You are not going back there,” Robb hissed, his fingers digging into Theon’s shoulders insistently. “He didn’t do anything this time, but it’s not like your dad hasn’t been known to get physical. I don’t want you getting hurt and he is _pissed_ , Theon. I don’t know what he’d do to you.”

Theon swallowed. “It’ll blow over.”

“Maybe,” Robb sighed. He looked tired, probably because he spent half the night worrying about Theon telling his dad about _them_. Theon felt guilt settle in his chest for causing Robb such grief. Almost immediately, Robb diffused it. “I told you not to worry about it. There isn’t anything wrong with you. Your dad is a bigot. We can talk to my dad about your situation tomorrow. Right now? No one needs to know. Not until we figure it out okay? You come first in this.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Theon blurted out, shaking his head before tears could even consider collecting in his eyes.

Robb smiled faintly, hauling Theon up against him. “Theon,” Robb pressed a soft kiss to his lips, “don’t be stupid.”


	37. Not Regrets [Jaime/Brienne]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: prompt 36 with any pairing ! 
> 
> 36: “I wish I could hate you.”
> 
> Anonymous: Jaime X Brienne with any prompt :D <3

Brienne was jarred awake at the slamming of her front door. Glancing over at her clock, the red numbers flashed 1:23 a.m. Cautiously, she rose from the bed and walked through her dimly lit loft. As expected, Jaime Lannister was waiting for her at the door he had just closed, leaning against it with his single hand rubbing his face tiredly. His tie was skewed and his hair disheveled. He didn't need to say a word for Brienne to know he finally did it.

"You need a drink," she greeted him, passing him to cross the flat to her kitchen. She opened the liquor cabinet and pulled out an unopened bottle of bourbon. She had been saving it for a special occasion, but she felt it was best suited for this moment. Grabbing two crystal tumblers, she made her way back to the living space.

Jaime had since shrugged off his suit jacket and it now hung on the back of the arm chair he sat in, his back curled forward with his hand bracing his forehead. Brienne silently came toward him, sitting on the study wooden coffee table in front of him an uncorking the bottle. She poured a healthy amount (suitable for a Lannister) and passed it to him. He took it deftly but didn't bring it to his mouth, instead resting it on his knee. Brienne poured a modest amount in her own tumbler (about half of a regular Lannister serving).

"How'd it go?" There was only one answer to the question, but Brienne could see that Jaime needed to talk about it. They both knew doing this wasn't going to be easy.

"As expected," he finally spoke since entering the apartment. He brought the glass to his lips and took a slow sip. "'Didn't need to fill it so high, I'm not Tyrion."

"No, but you share blood. I figured you'd be three for three with your _affection_ for the drink," Brienne joined him in a sip.

Another breath of silence overcame them until he spoke again. "Myrcella knows."

"I see," Brienne watched him carefully. "And?"

"What do you expect?" Jaime sneered. That was good, Brienne acknowledged. The sneer was good. Not great though. "It doesn't matter. Tywin is already erasing me from all documentation. Getting rid of the mark before it stains permanently. Who’d have thought it would have been me?" He snorted humorlessly at this. “Always thought it’d be Tyrion. He’s got a better heart than me, better mind.”

"Do you regret it?" she asked, but she knew that even if he did it would be near impossible to reverse the damage. There was no going back now.

"No," he said almost instantly in his calm, cool, collected tone. "I don't."

"You think you would have done it without me?" Brienne asked. It was a question on her mind since the beginning. She had to know. It had been bugging her ever since his sister mentioned to Brienne that she was _corrupting his mind_. Brienne had taken it for the manipulation it was, but it still bothered her.

Jaime smirked, taking a deep drink from the tumbler, draining half of it in one go. "I wish I could hate you, you know?" Brienne remained unmoved, watching him with careful eyes as he continued. "It would have been easier to. I wouldn't have cared then." He set down the glass by her thigh and pulled back, not touching. Not yet. "You did that though, damn wench." Brienne felt her lips curl up but tried to suppress it. He needed to get this out first. "I was happy there, not knowing the damage that we caused." He paused, and then reconsidered his words. "No, I knew, I just didn't care. Then you came along, with the damn kid from the slums-"

"Podrick," Brienne filled in, refilling Jaime's glass.

"Then Tyrion fell in love with him and took the lad under his wing. He’s always had a thing for strays, you know."

"Who are you trying to blame here?" Brienne shot. "Me? Tyrion? The kid?"

"There is no blame," Jaime settled on, his hand finding its way to her knee. He had been dying to reach out since entering the apartment. "That would imply turning my back on my corrupted family was a bad thing."

"You don't think it was?" Brienne couldn't keep her smirk down this time, her hand resting on top of his.

"No. I don't," he whispered. “There are a lot of things I feel guilty about and this is not one of them.”

Finally, Brienne allowed herself to close the gap between them. There was still a lot of work to do, everything was a mess, but at least _this_ wasn’t.         


	38. Caught [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: prompt 22 w/ Throbb please!
> 
> 22: “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

Theon swallowed hard, his breath still coming out in ragged gasps. Beside him, Robb laid on his side smiling brightly, his own chest rising and falling steadily.

“That was,” Theon took another deep breath, “unexpected.”

“Mmm,” Robb hummed, sitting up and letting the sheets pool at his hips. Theon didn’t dare look, still wondering how one moment they were grabbing drinks to celebrate Jon’s impromptu engagement and the next they were in Theon’s bed between the sheets.

“So, uh, we-”

“You’re thinking too much,” Robb reaching over, his fingers trailing down Theon’s arm until their hands clasped together.

“I don’t think you are thinking enough,” Theon whispered bluntly, entranced by their fingers locking together. His stomach tightened at the movement, but he didn’t pull away.

Years, Theon had wanted this. He had never done anything about it though and thought Robb was completely, well, uninterested in him that way. Apparently he was wrong in that assessment, but when? How? Why? There were too many questions that Robb didn’t seem interested in thinking about.

“Do you regret it?” Robb asked lightly, despite the subject matter he was presenting. His thumb stroked circles on the back of Theon’s hand.

“ _Do you_?” Theon blinked, looking over at Robb. The silent question of _aren’t you straight?_ accompanied his tone. Theon was pretty damn sure he deserved _some_ answers.

“Should I?” Robb grinned cheekily. Oh, that little bastard knew what he was doing. Fuck him. Well, _again._

“Are we just going to keep asking each other questions?” Theon snapped. He made to move his hand but Robb gripped it firmly and held it back in the place between them.

“Only if you keep questioning this,” Robb gestured with his free hand.

Theon was getting frustrated. “Robb.”

“Hmmm.”

“ _Robb_ ,” Theon yanked his hand away and turned on his side. “I’m…freaking out,” he admitted quietly.

“I don’t see why,” Robb murmured. “I like you, you like me. It’s quite simple.”

Theon blinked. “How do you know I like you?”

Robb grinned sheepishly. “You aren’t as sneaky as you think you are.”

“What?” Theon felt him pale and his heart returned to its rabbit quick pulse. “What do you-”

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice,” Robb shrugged innocently, although his eyes danced mischievously. “So has Jon. And Sansa. Really, my whole family if we are splitting hairs. _And_ Asha,” Robb remembered. “She threatened me, _but only slightly_.”

“Oh my gods,” Theon buried his face into his hand, Robb still not letting go of his left. “And you…like me?”

“I’m a lot better at hiding my secret looks, apparently,” Robb grinned smugly. “Although, only from you since everyone else seemed to know. Rickon thought we were dating. My dad gave me the talk when _you_ started dating, thinking ‘us’ would be a following motion. He got the timing off a bit.”

“And what prompted you tonight?” Theon raised his eyes to look at Robb who only _now_ had the decency to look embarrassed.

“Jon said he’d take matters into his own hands if I didn’t do anything soon,” Robb murmured.

Theon snorted. “Yeah, okay,” he shook his head grinning, “because Jon taking matters into his own hands is _so_ bad.”

Robb didn’t mention that Jon had been storing years’ worth of evidence on Robb’s affections for Theon. Robb refused to mention that was the reason Jon got his way more times than not when the two came to blows. Robb was definitely not going to mention that Jon’s blackmail included some very _unfortunately_ timed photos, videos, quotes and written pieces of evidence. Theon didn’t know _that_ for now.


	39. Walk In [Ned/Cat + Jon]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: How about Ned and Catelyn next?
> 
> [Jon catching siblings and parents in bed]
> 
> Unoffical sequel to ch. 13, 23, and 28

He should have known that things weren’t going to fall in his favor. He couldn’t have been this lucky for this long. Jon hadn’t walked in or witnessed another member of his family fucking (as Theon liked to call it) or making love (as Sansa proclaimed) or any sort of intimate act (like his damn brother had to defend) with their significant other in what? Four weeks? He should have known that streak had gone on for too long. Fate, destiny or _whatever_ was going to remedy that soon enough. Apparently, Jon’s fate was mapped out in the damn stars or something.

Jon just waited this time, slumped on the couch trying to not smash his head on the hardwood coffee table. Maybe if he put himself into a coma, he could escape this cruel and unusual fate. Somehow the Gods would find a way though, like they have been. He’d probably wake up from his coma with a full-blown orgy happening in his room. Jokingly, Jon wondered if there was _any_ way to escape this. Even death probably wouldn’t spare him.

It took an hour for Catelyn Stark to appear, dressed in more clothing that Jon thought she owned. Well, at least she was kind enough to try and stop the images from coming forth. Although, Jon wasn’t sure if he would ever get the memories of her and his father in the den going at it like fucking teenagers. Ned was supposed to have a bad back, but the way he was holding his wife…Jon stopped that train of thought before it completely fucked him over and he would have to be admitted into a mental institution. He probably wouldn’t find escape there either, to be honest.

“Jon,” she spoke in her parental, strict voice. The one she used when Rickon or Arya got into trouble. The one she reserved to hold power in a conversation.

“Catelyn,” Jon answer, not quite sure what one did say in these scenarios. He prayed Ned would come and deal with this. For some reason, Jon felt it might be easier to have that discussion with him rather than Cat.

With his siblings, it was easy to brush off. It wasn’t necessarily something that was fun to talk about, but it was easy to move past it, relatively so. A whole lot easier than having any sort of conversation with his parents about it. Fuck.

“Honey,” Ned appeared, thankfully also dressed completely. Not a single patch of skin was showing, thank gods for that. Jon was going to choose to ignore the buttons on his father’s shirt that had been popped off and misbuttoned. “Would you mind giving us a minute?”

Catelyn, a woman who Jon had seen keep the most stoic faces under the most dire situations, looked unbelievably relieved and was up and out of the room quicker than Jon thought possible for her.

Ned entered the rest of the way into the room, sinking down in the arm chair across from Jon. Neither of them felt particularly comfortable with eye contact so both stuck to looking at the old wall art that had _suddenly_ piqued their interests.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” _Me too._ “It’s probably something you don’t wish to talk about or think about.” _No kidding_. “But-” _Fuck-Fuck-Fuck-Fuck._ “-Cat and I are human and-” _Oh, fuck no_. “-we have needs.” _Kill me now, kill me now._ “You’ll understand one day.” _End me suffering!_

“It’s okay,” Jon quickly jumped in. _Gods_. “Let’s just brush it under the rug.”

“Of course,” Ned seemed relieved and Jon thought the conversation was at a close. He was actually about to bring up the question he had before he walked in on _that_ when Ned spoke again shattering all his hopes of moving on. “Jon, if you ever have concerns about sexuality or sexual encounters, feel free to-”

“Nope,” Jon was standing. Fuck his question. Fuck this conversation. Fuck his luck. Fuck the gods. “I should get going,” he said as he hastily made his retreat, missing the relieved sigh and smirk that came from his father.


	40. Exhibitionist [Pyp/Grenn + Jon]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: [Jon catching his siblings in bed] can you make one with Grenn/Pyp since he's friends with them it would be hilarious :3
> 
> Unoffical sequel to ch. 13, 23, 28, and 39

Jon thought moving out of Theon and now Robb’s apartment would have been one of his better decisions. But apparently, sometimes bad decisions just take a while to ferment.

It didn’t start off bad, far from it. At some point, Jon realized that he couldn’t keep squatting at his different family member’s places. He’d need to find a place of his own where he wouldn’t risk something _like that_ happening again so he chose his mates from high school.

Grenn and Pyp had a three bedroom apartment and were looking for someone to take the third bedroom. Dolorous Ed moved out to go and explore, which was fine and dandy. It just meant there was space for Jon and he couldn’t apply quickly enough.

And things were going great the first couple of months. Pyp and Grenn were swell dudes and just decent people (unlike _some_ people). They all got along and even though Pyp and Grenn were a thing, they didn’t let it consume the apartment. It was nice to live in an environment where he didn’t have to double check every room before entering and where he could finally let his past trauma go away. All was going great, until it was ruined once again by the Gods themselves.

Jon, _far_ too used to this situation, just waited outside the door for Grenn and Pyp to finish up. _Why_ they had to use his bedroom? Jon didn’t know, wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but was probably going to find out anyways because his life had just simply become a record of other people’s sexual experiences. A dandy little archive of disturbing material.

Pyp, sweet little Pyp, couldn’t even look Jon in the eye as he raced out of the room and toward the kitchen. Jon didn’t blame him though. It must be embarrassing to be on the receiving end of oral when your third buddy and owner of the room you are using walks in.

Grenn was out a moment later, shrugging at Jon, acting like Jon hadn’t just witness the extent of Grenn’s mouthing abilities.

“Pyp’s making tea,” Grenn explained lamely as he leaned against the wall across from him.

“This is a conversation we are having over tea?” Jon raised an eyebrow. Definitely not the worst scenario he had been in.

“Got a better idea?” Grenn pushed off the wall and waved Jon onward.

They sat on the couch, a large gap between then as they listen to Pyp scurry around the kitchen. Five minutes later, the tea pot whistled and Pyp was out with three mugs of tea. He couldn’t meet Jon’s eyes when he passed over the mug designated for Jon.

Silence overcame them as they sipped their tea in complete and utter silence. Jon was about half-way through his tea and in mid-sip when Grenn decided to get everything out in the open.

“We were using your room because Pyp’s an exhibitionist.”

Jon choked, spilling he tea all over his front while Pyp went horrifically red in the face.

“Excuse me?” Jon tried and failed to regain his composure.

Grenn, who looked far too casual and relaxed, shrugged once again. “Pyp is a cautious exhibitionist.”

Pyp still refused to say anything and Jon wasn’t sure he wanted to say anything, so Grenn graciously decided to continue the conversation by himself.

“Nothing crazy,” Grenn waved off. “But he likes the danger of being caught without actually being caught.” Grenn looked Jon directly in the eyes. “You weren’t supposed to be home for another hour.”

Jon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. They were actually going to try and _blame him_ for this? It was his fault that they were going to fuck in his bed? Because Pyp was a cautious exhibitionist? _For fucksake._

“I got done with my shift early,” Jon defended. “You shouldn’t have been fucking in my bed.”

Jon wasn’t sure Pyp could get any redder. “We were going to clean up afterward.”

“You never would have noticed,” Grenn shrugged carelessly again.

Jon buried his hands into his face. “Is this why Ed left?”

“Oh no,” Grenn shook his head chuckling. “We’re pretty sure he was into voyeurism anyways.”

_Oh my fucking god._


	41. Tell [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: prompt twelve w/ Throbb or whatever pairing you want !
> 
> 12: “I think we need to talk.”
> 
> (note: went with secret dating high school AU! Because why not?)

Theon watched carefully as Robb paced in front of him. They were in one of the empty classrooms of the school, lunch midway through but rather than their usual activity of sneaking off and making out, Robb marched silently with a brooding expression planted on his face. Theon idly wondered if Robb was going to end up creating a trench in the ground with the constant back and forth.

“I think we need to talk,” Robb bit out, chewing the side of his cheek anxiously. “And you aren’t going to like it.”

Theon went to the worst conclusion first.

“Are you ending this?”

Theon doubted it, especially considering their activities from this morning during study hall. But he might as well ask and get that out of the way. He hoped that wasn’t the case.

Robb looked like he had been slapped. “What? No! Are you?”

Theon rolled his eyes, rocking back in his chair. “Fuck no, you’re the one who said we needed to talk,” Theon sneered. “So if it’s not that, then what am I not going to like? I can’t imagine there is much that I won’t like.” He winked, Robb’s frown deepened.

“I think Jon knows,” Robb deadpanned, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“Snow knows what?” Theon hissed lowly. “About us?”

Robb nodded his head slowly, finally stopping his pacing to lean over the desk separating them. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Tell him he is an idiot and doesn’t know anything,” Theon grinned, quoting Jon’s girlfriend. “That’ll shut him up.”

“I don’t know if that’ll be enough this time.” Robb was probably right. It wasn’t the first time Jon had grown suspicious of Robb’s extracurricular activities and his new friendship with his “arch nemesis.”

“Let me guess, you have a plan.”

Theon planted both elbows on the shared desk, his face leveled with Robb’s. An amused smirk came across his lips and he went to close the distance. Robb turned away last minute and Theon’s lips brushed against his cheek. Pulling back, a dissatisfied frown replaced the earlier smirk.

“That has to stop,” Robb stated firmly.

“What? Us kissing? Then what’s the point of meeting in secret?” Honestly, that was the only part of their relationship that was scandalous and they were hiding. It wasn’t like them holding a conversation in public would necessarily clue people in to what they were doing behind closed doors.

Robb flushed and scratched his head distractedly. “Well, no, the kissing and stuff is fine. Great even.” A tiny blush dusted over his nose. “I mean more of the secret meetings.”

“So no more meetings?” Theon groaned. He pressed his forehead against the table.

It wasn’t that he was ashamed of this relationship, far from it. After all, he snatched Robb Stark from the sea of available women. His family…well, he wasn’t really ready to explain to his father about his sexuality. Their relationship was never great and was only growing worse with his father throwing homophobic slurs and _not_ knowing.

“No,” Robb reached across the table and pulled at Theon’s hair to make him look up. “We can still meet.”

“You just said no more sec-” Theon stopped himself midway, catching where Robb was coming from. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Robb swallowed, his eyes running over Theon’s face for answers.

“You know that isn’t an option for me,” Theon muttered.

“I know,” Robb nodded his head firmly. “But we can start off small!”

“How small are we talking?” Theon narrowed his eyes. It wasn’t that he was completely opposed to the idea; he just needed to make sure that these baby steps wouldn’t lead straight to his father.

“Jon?” Robb was pleaded with big ol’ puppy eyes. “Please? He can keep a secret!”

“Yeah, he’s got no friends,” Theon muttered bitterly.

“So?” Robb grinned already knowing he had won.

“Convince me,” Theon smirked, pulling his chair away from the desk and patting his lap. “I can be easily persuaded.”


	42. Sex Eyes [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr user kellyeatsjetplanes: Prompt 34 – Throbb!!!
> 
> 34: “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed.”

“Stop it with the sex eyes, Stark, I’m busy,” Theon grumbled, focusing his attention on the computer before him. He just needed 500 more words and then he’d love to fool around endlessly with Robb.

Usually, it was Theon who was trying to draw Robb from his work, but tonight fate decided to reverse the roles. The _one_ night Theon actually needed to do his work; Robb decided he wanted to mess around. Theon knew that look; he had given it to Robb plenty of times over the course of their relationship. Hell, he had given Robb that exact look last night and was promptly turned down in favor of Robb’s history notes. Robb rarely gave the look, often because Theon was already giving it but when he did, well, it drove Theon crazy. There was something about those eyes that made Theon’s stomach twist.

“What?” Robb swallowed audibly. He was closer now, actually sitting beside Theon on the couch, not touching. Not yet.

“I know what you’re doing,” Theon muttered, determined not to make eye contact. If he did, Theon would lose all the power and Robb would win and his research paper would never be completed.

“I’m just watching you,” Robb murmured innocently before pressing his chest against Theon’s arm. His chin hooked on Theon’s shoulder with the “intention” of looking at the computer screen, but Theon knew better. These roles had been reversed far too many times. Theon knew all the tricks and Robb while good, wasn’t _nearly_ as good as Theon.

Theon still stiffed under his touch but remained unmoved and continued to work. “How come every time I actually have to do work you want to fool around but when I have no work you don’t want to do anything?”

“I didn’t say anything about fooling around,” Robb said, even as his hand crawled onto Theon’s thigh, drawing a line across. “Keep working, I insist.”

But even as he said that, Robb’s hand continued trailing up Theon’s thigh, coming dangerously close to his crotch. Robb kept his touch light but present. Theon held back any shiver that threated to spring forward.

“Robb?” Theon’s voice pitched a bit (a lot).

“Keep working, I won’t bother you.”

It was then that Theon heard the sarcasm dripping in his tone. Theon actually wouldn’t have caught it if that phrase wasn’t the exact same phrase he had used on Robb last week. It only took a few seconds later for Theon to understand the full situation.

“Are you plotting revenge sex?” Theon turned, cursing himself for meeting those fucking eyes. He knew right then and there that his paper was fucked.

“Revenge? Against who?” Robb’s eyes danced and Theon knew that was exactly what he was doing.

“Me. From last week,” Theon licked his lips and Robb’s hand toyed with his zipper, adding a slight pressure. “When you overslept and forgot to submit your presentation notes.” His voice hitched as the zipper was pulled down chillingly slow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” his tone implying he very much knew what Theon was talking about. Robb slowly moved the laptop off of Theon’s lap and to the coffee table. Yet, Theon wasn’t getting anything done now.

“I said sorry,” Theon groaned as Robb’s fingers skimmed the waist band of his underwear, stroking the soft skin.

“Mmm,” Robb hummed, his eyes never leaving Theon’s. “I recall. What did you say? ‘Shit happened?’” Robb brushed his hand against Theon’s half-hard cock before pulling away completely and standing up. “I’m going to make dinner. Fish okay for tonight?”

Theon’s eyes darkened as he watched Robb walk away. “You are such a tease.”

Robb looked back at him, wide eyes feigning innocence but Theon knew better. Robb interlocked his fingers behind his back, puffing his chest out slightly and rocked back and forth on his heels.

“Who says I’m teasing?” Cue the ~~Theon Greyjoy~~ Robb Stark Wink and Smirk Double Combo.

“Fuck it,” Theon was up and crossing the room. “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed.”

Robb grinned. “That’s fine; we have a perfectly lovely couch.”


	43. Rain Dance [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: throbb + 21
> 
> 21: “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?”

“Come on!” Robb was practically dragging Theon through the pounding rain. “Only a couple more blocks!”

They had been walking home from dinner when the thunderstorm struck. Neither of them had bothered checking the forecast before leaving that afternoon and upon seeing the clouds, Theon had shrugged them off with a “they’ll pass over, don’t worry.” Needless to say, they didn’t pass over. When they had left the restaurant, the clouds were already rumbling with threats of bursting. Theon said they’d make it home in time. Needless to say, he was wrong again.

They were currently fifteen minutes away from home when the onslaught of rain poured down on them, soaking them to the bone almost instantly. Distantly, thunder sounded and lightning followed twenty seconds later lighting up the sky.

“Wait,” Theon dug his heels into the sidewalk, yanking Robb to a stop. “Let’s enjoy this.”

“Now?” Robb asked exasperated.

“Dance with me, Stark,” Theon smirked, knowing Robb had a (not so) secret weakness for romantic tropes. Dancing in the rain was way too high on the list.

“I fucking hate you so much,” Robb jerked his arm but Theon remained rooted. Robb may be stronger, but Theon rivaled his stubbornness and if he didn’t want to move, Robb wouldn’t be able to do a thing short of lifting him off the ground and carrying him.

“Come on! Let’s enjoy this!” Theon pulled Robb closer. Thunder boomed behind him and Robb would have thought it was damn cool if the lightning didn’t flash ten seconds later.

“We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the damn rain?” Robb grumbled, letting Theon pull him close. Despite the icy rain pouring on them, Theon was still warm.

“You don’t?” Theon grinned like a child and that was great and all but Robb wasn’t a fan of dying in the middle of a lightning storm _or_ getting sick.

“Can’t we compromise on this?” Robb groaned. He wanted to get home, put warm clothes on, cuddle with Theon and be _dry_. Why did his ironborn boyfriend always have to make such a fuss when it came to water? Robb knew it was nostalgia driven, but Robb always wished that that nostalgia could be paired with common sense from time to time.

“What do you have in mind?” Theon raised an eyebrow. Well, at least he was considering it.

“How about the next time it isn’t raining down bolts of lightning we can hang out in the rain all day long?” Robb attempted to pull Theon once more.

Reluctantly, Theon agreed, slotting his fingers with Robb’s so they were more holding hands than Robb just dragging him down the street. Theon did notice that Robb had slowed down their pace just a touch. It wasn’t much, but Theon still felt the act of kindness squeeze at his heart.


	44. Lady Luck [Rickeen]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr user i-am-noble: prompt: rickon and shireen meet in a comic book and they both want an the newest issue but there's one copy left?

Shireen couldn’t believe her eyes as she looked down at the cover, still wrapped in the plastic. Lady Luck had shined down on her and granted her the gift of a near perfect, mint condition, second edition of the 1988 _Batman: The Killing Joke_ graphic novel. Shireen didn’t even look at the price to _know_ she had to have it. Chances like this were once in a life time and she was not going to let that go away because of some measly…$96.49.

Swallowing, Shireen propped the graphic novel on the shelf to dig through her purse. She didn’t exactly carry that money around but she did have a credit card her father had given to her for emergencies. Maybe just a quick call to explain the significance, he’d let her use it for this? She wasn’t sure Stannis would go for it, but she had to try. These opportunities came so rarely!

While waiting for her father to pick up, Shireen paced the isle. She kept a hawk-like stare on the book shelf to make sure no one dared pick it up. The last thing she needed was for someone to come swooping in and taking what was hers. It had to be hers; it was going to be hers.

_“Shireen, is everything alright?”_ Stannis’ rough voice rumbled over the line.

Figures her father would assume something was wrong when Shireen actually called. It wasn’t that they were distant, just Shireen never gave her father calls much. “Everything is fine,” she reassured quickly. “I just wanted to ask you for a major favor!” She did her best to impress her cutest voice.

She heard her father sigh over the line, already seeming to know where this was going. _“What would that be?”_

“I need to spend $100 on a book.” She was only bending the truth a bit. She knew her father would out-right say no if he thought it was comic book related, but if she phrased it right, he might think she was going for academic or higher level reading. Shireen wouldn’t go as far to lie, but omit some of the finer details never hurt anyone.

_“For one book?”_ her father asked in disbelief.

“I’ll pay you back!” Shireen promised immediately. “With interest! I just don’t carry that much on me _like_ you told me.”

Another sigh. _“Must be some book.”_

“It really is,” Shireen nodded her head quickly despite her father not being able to see it.

_“…Fine, but I want to be paid in full.”_

“Dad, I love you, I love you! I promise I’ll pay you back as soon as I get home.” She had the money in her childhood piggy bank. She was saving it for a trip to Dorne with her friends over the summer, but Dorne will always be there, right? Plus, she should have enough time before summer to get her funds back up. “I’ll be home in an hour! Love you!”

_"Be safe,”_ Stannis grumbled his own form of ‘I love you.’

Shireen hung up the phone and tucked it away quickly, racing over to the shelf but skidding to a halt in finding the graphic novel of her dreams had disappeared, gone, missing while she had been distracted with her father. She had literally turned her back on it for _one_ second, but someone had swooped in and snatched it from her.

Searching the store, Shireen’s eyes narrowed at the line for the cashier. There were only two people in line but Shireen’s eyes fell on the red haired thief with _her_ graphic novel in his grasps.

Pulling back her shoulders, Shireen marched over to the guy. He looked younger than her, maybe by a year or so with wild red hair and river blue eyes. His face was covered in freckles.

“Um, excuse me?” Shireen poked his shoulder, gaining his attention.

He turned around looking at her, a devious smile on his face. “Can I help you?” Shireen knew in an instant that he knew she wanted what he had.

“I was actually planning on buying that but-”

“I have it now,” he finished for her, holding the graphic novel in his hands. If Shireen reached out for it, she could snatch it back but then she’d have to fight him off.

“Exactly,” Shireen nodded her head. “I was hoping maybe I could get it back?”

“Oh,” the guy mockingly frowned, glancing down at the cover. “Well, that kind of goes against my own plans, doesn’t it?”

Shireen clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth. “You could give it back.”

“Hmm,” the boy looked up like he was considering it before a nasty sneer crossed his face, “I don’t think so.”

Shireen narrowed her eyes. “But I-”

“It’s in my hands, right?” he cut her off, his eyes locked with her. “So I guess that means it is mine now.”

Shireen watched shocked and appalled as the guy was called to the register. Shireen couldn’t do a thing as he pulled out his wallet and began shuffling for the correct amount. Disappointed, angry, and downright sad, Shireen left the store.

_This close_ she was to getting it. Not only was it one of her favorite comic book stories, but it was also one of the most notorious ones of the series. It was her dream buy and it had been snatched from her.

Sinking onto the bench outside the store, Shireen cupped her chin in her hand. Well, at least her dad didn’t have to shell out $100 now, so _there’s that._

Shireen heard the tell-tale chime of the bell as the door to the store was opened. Shireen didn’t look over, expecting the red head from earlier to be coming out with his new book.

It wasn’t until she heard a rustling of a plastic bag being set next to her that she looked over. Beside her, a plastic bag with the comic book store’s logo was resting beside her. Down the side walk, she watched as the red headed boy from the store walked off, his back to Shireen and his hands tucked into his pockets.

Not willing to buy into hope yet, Shireen peeked into the bag and sure enough, there was the copy of _Batman: The Killing Joke_ waiting for her. Pulling it out with shaky fingers, Shireen noticed a bright green sticking note on the back. Pulling it off, Shireen read:

_I figured you might appreciate this more than me, so I am giving this to you on ONE CONDITION: we go out for coffee or something and you let me read it. Think of it as a joint custody or something :) or a date. Maybe both._

Below the little scrawled message were a phone number and a name.

Shireen couldn’t stop the smile that flew to her face. _Rickon Stark, huh?_


	45. Set Up [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: school au with english Teacher robb and Math /or science/ Teacher theon and Their students want to set them up???

The collective eighth grade fourth period class groaned as they watched their dorky English teacher hanging by the door frame of his classroom. Mr. Stark, Shakespeare fanatic and poetry lover, was in the midst of a conversation with the eighth grade algebra teacher, Mr. Greyjoy whose classroom was right across the hall.

They were halfway through the school year and the entire grade decided that enough was enough, this was getting just ridiculous. To the students, it was obvious that Robb Stark and Theon Greyjoy were perfect for each other. Too bad the two teachers didn’t seem to notice.

It took five notes passed throughout the entire grade through the course of a single day for every student in their eighth year to come to agreement: They got to hook their teachers up or risk spending the next half of the year watching mutual pining but nothing being done about it.

The classes agreed to start off simple. First, they had to divide their efforts. This needed to be worked from both sides. Once the entire grade had been divided into half Robb Starks and half Theon Greyjoys, it was a matter of putting plans into motion.

In Robb Stark’s class, when they discussed romantic poetry or common themes, the students made sure to draw the lines back to Mr. Stark’s personal life and drop Mr. Greyjoy’s name a few times. Mr. Stark took their comments good naturedly but never seemed to make the connection his students tried to impress on him, or if he did, he ignored them.

In Theon Greyjoy’s class, the girls talked loudly about how handsome and single their English teacher was in hopes of sparking ideas in Mr. Greyjoy’s head. The boys spent their time plotting ways to keep the two teachers in contact, doing everything from stealing office supplies so Mr. Greyjoy had to borrow some from Mr. Stark to starting fights in the hallways so Mr. Stark and Mr. Greyjoy would be forced in each other’s company to intervene.

It was a ridiculous group effort, but boy did they try their hardest. Months went by with schemes and ploys galore! Every student was involved, every student put in effort to get their two loser teachers together.

Three members of the chess club ended up locking Mr. Greyjoy in the supply closet until Mr. Stark had to rescue him (to which Mr. Greyjoy suspended them for three days, but it was totally worthy it to see his blushing face when he saw who is savior was).

The cheerleaders and the football rallied the students to vote Mr. Stark and Mr. Greyjoy as prom king and queen instead of actual students (and when they won, Mr. Stark laughed it off while Mr. Greyjoy drew the runner ups to take their place).

The art students made thousands of valentines to send to both Mr. Stark and Mr. Greyjoy, posing as the other (Mr. Greyjoy grew suspicious after the tenth one and Mr. Stark just called his students cute, saying teachers didn’t exchange valentines).

The gifted students orchestrated cross-curricular learning opportunities for Mr. Stark and Mr. Greyjoy to spend more time together (which usually ended with one of them in fits of laugher and the other one grinning smugly).

The intensive students requested after school study halls to Mr. Stark who begged Mr. Greyjoy to stay and helped out (they would then sit at the same desk and grade their papers together).

The freaks slashed one of the tires of Mr. Greyjoy’s car so that Mr. Stark would have to give him a lift home (the geeks then had a bake sale to buy him a new tire under Mr. Stark’s instruction).

The music students wrote symbolic romantic songs about equations and iambic parameter while the news production students tried to step up a kiss cam during their basketball games (both ended with Mr. Greyjoy and Mr. Stark laughing them off and not taking them seriously).

In the end, it took the school bully stealing Mr. Greyjoy’s math exam the day before the test date, causing Mr. Greyjoy to have to make a new one from scratch for the two teachers to finally get it.

Mr. Stark stayed late to help Mr. Greyjoy with recreating the test and they didn’t get done until nearly 10 to which Mr. Greyjoy had asked Mr. Stark for dinner at the local diner. Little did they know two students from their classes worked as washers and saw the whole thing. Mr. Greyjoy and Mr. Stark didn’t leave the diner until midnight and they ended the night with sloppy making out in Mr. Stark’s car.

The two witnesses then sent a congratulatory message to the entire eighth grade: Mission Accomplished.


	46. Snowball [Sansaery]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Prompt 11 for Sansaery <3
> 
> 11: “Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddamnit!”

“Wake up!” Sansa shook her girlfriend awake, her legs straddling Margaery’s hips and her red head curtaining them. A pretty little smile painted her lips as she stared down at her slumbering girlfriend.

Drowsily, Margaery cracked open her eyes to see Sansa’s wide awake, bright and smiling face. “What time is it?” She turned to look at the clock but Sansa’s long hair effectively walled her in.

“Like seven in the morning, _but_ ,” Sansa stressed as Margaery snapped her eyes shut to get more sleep, “it’s snowing!”

Margaery opened her eyes cautiously. “It is?” She hadn’t heard any news of that on the weather channel last night.

“Freshly fallen,” Sansa sighed dreamily, an excited shiver raced down her back. “We have to go and see it before it gets all gross.” Sansa was sitting up straight now, still trapping Margaery beneath her, Sansa’s fingers poking and prodding Margaery’s sides, almost tickling but not quite. “Get up! We can spend the whole day in bed _after_ we play in the snow.”

Margaery, slowly but surely, sat up in the bed with her hands finding their place on Sansa’s waist. “The whole day?”

“I’ll even make hot coco,” Sansa grinned, knowing she had Margaery convinced.

“Fine,” Margaery nodded, her eyes dancing over Sansa’s, “but we are watching _How The Grinch Stole Christmas_ again!”

Sansa was already off the bed, pulling on a long sleeve shirt. “You got it,” she turned around to wink.

Margaery followed, albeit much slower and ten minutes later Margaery was holding back a smile as Sansa tiptoed through the freshly fallen snow. Little dustings were still coming down and getting sprinkled through her red hair and caught on her pale eyelashes.

Sansa spun around, her eyes glowing as they landed on Margaery. “Well, are you coming?”

Margaery, while she could admire the snow from afar, was not a huge fan of the cold in general. So she had remained rooted on their covered porch, content with watching her girlfriend enjoy childhood nostalgia.

“I’m good here,” Margaery smiled.

“We had a deal,” Sansa took a few steps closer. “Play in the snow; that means both of us!”

Margaery rolled her eyes. “What are you going to do? Make-Sansa,” Margaery’s eyes widened as she watched Sansa drop to her knees and begin collecting snow. “Sansa, don’t do that, come on.” Grinning, Sansa stood up, a pretty little snowball in her hands. “Don’t you dare throw that snowba-” Margaery ducked as the snowball flew over her head and slapped against their front door. Margaery stood up, her eyes going from the melting snow by the front door to a smirking Sansa. “Oh, darling,” Margaery stepped off the porch and kneeled to the ground. “It’s on.”

For the next hour, Sansa and Margaery raced through their tiny little yard; highly aware their neighbors could come out any minute and see the two grown women playing in the snow like children. While Margaery would never find the same sense of nostalgia as Sansa did in the snow, she would admit that she did enjoy making snow angels and wrestling her girlfriend in the drifts.

It was when they had finally give up on making a snowman, Margaery decided that the chill that had long ago penetrated her thick coat was too much and they had to head in. Sansa made no complaints; the perfect blankets of snow from this morning were now stomped on and unturned. The wonder was gone, for now.

Just as promised, they changed into their fluffy pajamas upon entry, Sansa made hot chocolates while Margaery pulled out the aged _How The Grinch Stole Christmas_ VHS tape Willas, Loras, Garlan and she used to watch every Christmas morning.


	47. Hair [Jaime/Brienne]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Prompt - Jaime x Brienne, one fixes the other's hair.

“ _Sweetheart_ ,” Jaime sneered as his fiancé walked into the living room wearing a deep blue cocktail dress and the diamond ring glimmering on her ring finger, “have you ever heard of a comb?”

Raising both blonde eyebrows, Brienne crossed her arms. “Got something to say about my hair?”

Jaime, wearing his suit sans the jacket, was already up and out of his seat, making a beeline to her. “Seriously, woman, just because you don’t care doesn’t mean you shouldn’t brush it.”

“I did,” she said, her voice dancing in amusement. “Not all of us are willing to spend an hour in the bathroom working on our hair, _princess_.”

Narrowing his eyes, Jaime brought his face close to her own. “At least mine looks like I made an effort today.”

“ _Oh_ , someone is cranky,” Brienne smirked. “Nervous?”

“No,” he retorted, lifting his hand to comb his fingers through her soft hair, trying to fluff it up and make it look like she had actually spent time on it rather than running the brush through it a few times.

“You seem nervous,” she teased, her hand coming up to cup his smooth, freshly shaven cheek. “What? Think someone is going to start something tonight?”

“They better not,” Jaime growled, his eyes still trained on her hair, pulling it lightly for emphasis. “Tyrion has his boys there tonight to make sure no one _unwanted_ comes.”

“You think Cersei is going to try and crash our engagement dinner?” Brienne laughed. The idea was absurd. Cersei was many things, but a gate-crasher was not one of them. She made it _very_ clear last time the two Lannister twins spoke that she would be dropping all contact if Jaime went through with the proposal. Well, they were here now and it had been two months since anyone has heard from her.

“Maybe not her, but I wouldn’t be surprised if my father sent someone or one of our enemies-”

“ _Your_ enemies,” Brienne corrected (enemies was a _strong_ word for business rivals), knocking his hand from her hair which she _had_ put effort into. His need to be in charge of the situation was the only reason he was messing with it to begin with because she knew it was fine. “I think you are letting the nerves speak.”

“Damn it, Brienne, I said I wasn-”

Sometimes arguing with Jaime was fun, other times shutting him up was just as nice.

Pulling away from the kiss, Brienne grinned up at him, ruffling his combed back hair. “You’re worrying over nothing.”

Jerking his head away from her hand, he growled, “Great, now I have to go fix that.”

Jaime made to side step her, but Brienne forced him back onto the couch and sat beside him. “I’ll fix it,” she shook her head in amusement as her hands were back in his hair, combing it back to how it was. She kept her movements gentle and slow in hope for him to _calm down_ , scratching his scalp in the way she knew he liked. “Better?”

Jaime reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and using the reflection to check. After a few seconds of inspection from multiple angles, he deemed it worthy and tucked his phone away.

“Not bad,” he glanced over to her, “why can’t you do that to your own hair.” His lips pulled into a cool smile.

Rolling her eyes, Brienne elbowed his side, “Keep that up and you won’t have to worry about someone crashing the engagement.”

“Is that a thinly veiled threat of leaving me?” Jaime couldn’t help but grin, flashing perfect teeth at her. His head went over his heart as he threw his head back dramatically.

“No,” Brienne shook her head as she reach up and pressed a brief kiss to his cheek, “It’s just a regular ol’ threat. I don’t believe in concealment.”

“Lucky me,” he winked.


	48. Are You Kidding Me? [Brojen + Jon]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> krakenwolf: Can I request Jon walking in on Bran and Jojen?

Jon knew he made a mistake when the first words to come out of his mouth were: “Did Greyjoy put you up to this?”

In his defense, these incidents were happening far too frequently. At some point, it had to be a ploy! There was no way every single relative or acquaintance of his was hooking up with someone and Jon was there to bear witness to it all. Well into his twenties, Jon had never had these incidents until the past few months! Something was up, but he had miscalculated when Bran and Jojen’s faces turned from embarrassment into confusion.

“What? Theon?” Bran looked up his knees. He had been avoiding eye contact with Jon up until that point. He wasn’t sure he was ready to meet his brother’s eyes after he just tried (and failed) to lose his virginity with his boyfriend. It wasn’t exactly something that was as recoverable.

Embarrassment, guilt, shame, and mortification flooded to Jon’s features. Up until this point, he had been able to hide them under the assumption this was just a longwinded, crude joke Theon was getting everyone to partake in. Some of them he knew were accidental (he highly doubted that his parents would go along with something like _that_ just to traumatize Jon) but some of them couldn’t be happening. He was still pretty sure Theon had paid Pyp and Grenn and he wouldn’t be surprised if Theon _hinted_ with Sansa (they were too close for Jon’s liking).

“D-Did you think we were joking?” Jojen asked, the embarrassment he had been feeling before was gone now that he and Bran had gained the upper hand in the conversation. Jon was already regretting the course of this discussion.

“Wait-” Bran was grinning now, his cheeks still tinted pink from earlier “-did you even know Jojen and I were dating?”

Okay, Jon knew _something_ was up! He did, he just didn’t know that they were _dating_ , at least officially. He definitely didn’t think they were that far into the relationship to be having sex but that wasn’t really Jon’s business. Although they were _a little_ young.

“I knew,” Jon shrugged off the question, ready to put this whole conversation behind him.

Jojen and Bran shared a conspiring look. “Did you think we were faking because you got off to Theon and Robb the other-”

“Excuse me,” Jon’s mortification quickly changed to anger. “What is that fucking brat telling everyone?”

“Theon? That you have a major crush on him,” Jojen smiled brightly, finding this too funny.

“And that you’re jealous of him and Robb,” Bran continued.

“So you hid in the closet,” Jojen winked at this and Jon felt himself go red.

“Because that’s the closest you’d ever get.” Bran was biting back a giggle and Jon was going to lose it.

“That’s. Not. What. Happened,” Jon bit out each word, trying to keep his anger at bay. _Oh, he was going to kill Greyjoy._

“Oh,” Jojen nodded his head sympathetically, “that would make sense in respect to the narrative.”

“Narrative?” Jon cocked an eyebrow. What the fuck was he talking about?”

Bran apparently knew, nodded his head in agreement, “Well you did walk in on Sansa and Margaery-”

“They were in the kitchen! I was getting water!”

“- _and_ Arya and Gendry,” Jojen mused.

“That was…I didn’t…”

“ _And_ mom and dad!” Bran wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“That was definitely not intentional-”

“And even your roommates,” Jojen sighed, grabbing Bran’s hand in the process.

“They were in _my_ bed,” Jon yelped exasperatedly.

“So what? You just have bad luck?” Bran asked, not seeming to believe Jon.

“ _Yes_ , do you think I want to see all of that?”

“I mean, no but the frequency of the matter kind of begs to differ,” Jojen muttered lowly more to Bran than anything. “Maybe he has a complex or something.”

Having enough and getting nowhere with this, Jon began to leave but as he got to the door, Bran threw in one last taunt, “Be careful! I hear Rickon and Shireen are getting pretty close!”


	49. How The Tables Turn [Jon/Sam + Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The1WeLiveInNow: How about Robb and Theon walking in on Jon and Sam ? And Theon teasing him for being gay when jon points out that he is too

“He’s going to be on my side about this,” Robb sneered, prodding Theon’s side as they parked outside Jon’s third new apartment in the last six months. Apparently it didn’t end up working out with Pyp and Grenn. Jon was lax on the details.

“Look, he’s an asshole but he isn’t _that_ much of an idiot,” Theon pointed out as they began climbing the stairs. “Just admit you’re wrong!”

“I’m not wrong,” Robb groaned for the umpteenth time. “Look, I’m not saying Leonardo DiCaprio doesn’t deserve an Oscar, I just didn’t think that movie was all that great.”

“Why are we dating?” Theon shook his head as Robb fumbled around for Jon’s key. After a lot of apologizing, Robb was finally granted a key on the condition that Theon wasn’t allowed a copy or possession of it.

“Because you love me!” Robb grinned brighter than the sun as he opened the door to Jon’s apartment.

The two frowned at the darkly lit living room. They knew Jon was home, his car was in the parking lot as well as his roommate’s. Sharing a look of confusion, both jumped at the sound of a low squeak.

“Videogames,” Robb’s eyes widened knowingly as he made a beeline for Jon’s bedroom. Theon followed. He was not wrong about this!

Turns out, Jon was not playing videogames. Unless Sam was hiding the joystick in his pants and Jon had learned to play videogames with his tongue, but Theon highly doubted that.

“I’m so sorry!” Robb slammed the door shut as Theon heard both Jon and Samwell fucking Tarly began hunting around for clothing. Theon silently led a pale, shell-shocked Robb to the couch. “I didn’t know Jon _liked_ guys.”

“Honestly,” Theon leaned back, “I didn’t know your brother was getting any- _ever_.”

Jon opened the door a few moments later, clothed and stiff as he walked into the living room. Theon examined him, noting the fussed up hair and darkening hickeys. Not bad. Robb, on the other hand, found more interest in Theon’s hand as he held it tightly in his own.

“What are you guys doing here?” Jon finally broke the deafening silence.

Theon glanced over to Robb to see if he’d shed any light but it seemed that Robb was more focused on not speaking ever again.

“Had a question,” Theon shrugged. “It’s not that important.”

“You guys couldn’t knock?”

“…we had a key…” Robb whispered quietly. “…videogames…”

Neither brother spoke again. Theon waited patiently. If it had just been him, he’d have been teasing Jon since the beginning, but Robb was nice and had also probably softened up Theon over the years. But, he could only be nice for so long and since neither brother was going to say anything, Theon thought it was time. Someone had to break the awkwardness.

“So,” Theon leered, making a showy point of looking directly at the hickeys, “I didn’t know you liked sucking cock so much.”

That snapped Robb out of his daze. Ripping their hands apart, Robb hit Theon loudly on the arm. “Oh my Gods, _Theon_ , no!”

“What?” Theon mocked confusion. “I’m just making a point! I didn’t know he was gay! I mean, it makes sense and all. Does kind of look like a girl and all that. Do you catch or pitch or-”

“What the fuck Theon?” Jon cut him off quickly, his eyes wide.

“I can’t believe you are going to make fun of him right now,” Robb hissed quietly, defending his brother instantly.

“Come on!” Theon winked. “Kind of funny.”

“You’re gay too!” Robb shoved.

Theon paused, frowning for a moment. “No.”

Both brothers shared a look before looking back at Theon. “Greyjoy, who the fuck are you dating?” Jon asked, not believing the shit he was hearing right now when he had other things he _much_ rather be doing.

“I mean, Robb, yeah,” Theon waved off.

An amused smile came to Robb’s face. “You do know being gay is liking the same sex.”

“Yeah, okay,” Theon rolled his eyes dramatically. “We can talk about my sexuality _or_ we can humiliate Snow?”

 “Or you two could leave?” Jon huffed tiredly.

“Oh,” Theon smirked and winked. Sam was still in the bedroom. “Want to get back to your _activities_?”

“Theon-”

“It is okay, Robb,” Theon shushed his boyfriend with a sound kiss. “Snow has given me an idea of what we can do when we get home.”

Robb raised an eyebrow. “Jon gave you that idea? Didn’t have it before?”

Theon stood up, pulling Robb up with him. “Right, that’s why we were here!” He met Jon’s eyes. “Leonard DiCaprio, he deserved an Oscar for The Revenant, right?”

Theon could see Jon’s patience was wearing thin. “ _Yes._ ”

Robb groaned and Theon cheered, pulling Robb with him. “I win! Looks like I’m fucking you tonight.”


	50. My Turn [Jon/Ygritte + Arya]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valitrixta: Could you do someone walking in on Jon and Ygritte?
> 
> [Chose: Arya]

“So, not knocking just runs in the family, huh?” Ygritte grinned brightly at Jon and Arya who were on opposite sides of the room looking at the wall. “This is great, I should call-”

“No one,” Arya growled. “Nobody needs to know.”

“Agreed,” Jon muttered.

“Well, someone is going to find out if we don’t discuss it,” Ygritte shrugged, already pulling out her phone. “Let’s see, who should I call?” Ygritte made a show of scrolling through her contacts. “Ooh, Sansa would be pretty embarrassing, right? Or Robb? Maybe even Rickon-”

“You have Rickon’s number?” Jon asked, momentarily pulling out of his reprieve.

Ygritte paused, looking up at her boyfriend. “Sure, we talk shit about all of your guys. He is delightfully insightful.”

“He’s seventeen,” Arya deadpanned.

“So?” Ygritte rolled her eyes. “ _Oh_ , how about Theon? He’d get a kick out of his. Apparently, he had a log of all of these incidents.”

“A log?” Jon blanched.

“Yeah, he showed it to me a few months ago,” Ygritte winked. “Don’t worry; you aren’t the only one with voyeuristic tendencies, although this is Arya’s first, if I remember correctly.”

“You’re telling me my other siblings have done this?” Arya raised an eyebrow. Tension in the room already dispelling. “And Theon is keeping a log?”

“Yeah, Rickon once. Bran only twice. Robb at least four, if not more. I think Greyjoy doesn’t mark all of his because they are fucking so he has a soft spot for him. Sansa two and a half-”

“What makes a half a time?” Jon frowned.

“Oh,” Ygritte smirked. “Accidental butt-dial. So, maybe make sure your phone is locked next time?” Arya went red. “Jon has racked in the most at eleven times, all within six months of each other which is pretty impressive.”

“The damn Gods shine down on me,” Jon growled lowly.

“So, I should probably tell Theon if you two aren’t going to talk about-”

“What is there even to talk about?” Arya looked up, the perfect mask of indifference she had on fading fast.

“Just admit you walked in and watched for a moment,” Ygritte shrugged as Jon choked.

“I didn-”

“Honey, I was looking at the door. It was opened for at least one minute,” Ygritte winked. “There is nothing wrong, I mean Jon’s been known to watch-”

“Why does every think I watch?” Jon groaned, burying his head into his hands. “I’m going to kill Theon, I really am.”

“Oh, then you’d make Robb a widow,” Ygritte pouted.

“Robb would be such a sad widow, black was more your color anyways,” Arya pointed out.

“Or naked,” Ygritte nodded in agreement. “Oh, and I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that thinly veiled threat, Miss Arya Voyeur Stark.”

“I’m not a-”

“Arya,” Jon cut off the arguing, his voice detached and strained. “Just admit it and _Ygritte_ will _drop it_ and then we can all _forget_ about it. Deal?”

“Yup!” Ygritte grinned wickedly. “Come on, baby, admit it.”

“I stood there in shock for a minute,” Arya snapped. “That’s the best you are going to get.”

“I’m happy!” Ygritte clapped her hands. “Now kiss and make up!”

Jon and Arya looked at each other before looking at Ygritte. She gave another wave of her phone, indicated Theon’s number as the two siblings stood up. Cautiously, the two hugged quickly. Not quickly enough for Ygritte to still have fun.

“Add tongue!”

Jon threw a pillow. Arya threw the pocket knife she carried. Ygritte managed to duck.

All in all, fun day for Ygritte.


	51. Pregnant [Jaime/Brienne]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Jaime x Brienne, Prompt 27
> 
> 27\. I'm pregnant

Jaime stared at Brienne for a long moment, not quite sure he understood what she was saying. His eyes traced her figure, focusing intently on her abdomen in disbelief. 

"Does that mean..." he didn't finish his sentence, unable to say the words in fear that he could be right...in fear that he could be wrong. Hope was a dangerous thing.

"I'm pregnant," Brienne finished for him, watching her husband carefully as he absorbed the information.

"And I'm the father?"

Brienne threw Jaime a deadpanned expression before rolling her eyes. "Let's hope so."

A tiny little bird fluttered in his chest but he ignored it. He wasn’t going to get ahead of himself. "Are you sure?"

"That you’re the father or that I'm pregnant?" Brienne raised an eyebrow of skepticism.

Jaime shrugged, a smirk tugging his lips. "I mean both would be good to know-"

"I'm sure," Brienne shook her head in amusement, "on both accounts." She could see that Jaime didn’t quite believe her yet. "Want me to take another pregnancy test? They give you more than one in the box."

He instantly nodded his head and Brienne sighed, standing up. A tiny smirk of amusement flew to her face as he stood up and followed her to the bathroom, practically at her heels. He was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and trying not to be obvious about it.

"I'll wait here," he murmured to the floor shyly.

Brienne had never seen her husband like this in all the years she had known him and was getting endless amusement from his child-like shyness. She knew Jaime had kids. She also knew that he had some regrets concerning those kids, all three of which had passed thinking another man was their father. In a way, this was a redo for Jaime to do it the right way. Brienne also knew there was the fear it wouldn’t go right for a fourth time.

Five minutes later, Brienne returned with pregnancy test in hand. Upon showing it to him, she watched the realization that this _was_ in fact real come to his eyes. A tiny smile, not a smirk or a sneer, twitched at his lips.

"You're going to be a father," she congratulated. She paused before rewording it. “You’re going to be a dad.”

Jaime had already been a father and aided in creating three children. However, he was never a dad. This time he would get to be.

Instantly, she was brought to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around her as the pregnancy test fell to the floor with a forgotten clank. He ducked his head into her neck, smiling into and she couldn't help but reciprocate the gesture.

"We're going to have a baby," he breathed; his tone was just a barely audible, hushed whisper of awe. He was practically shaking with uninhibited excitement.

"We're going to have a baby," she confirmed, squeezing his arms tightly for emphasis.

Jaime let out an uncharacteristic laugh of joy, shaking relieved and excitement rattling his chest. Brienne joined him as their foreheads came together, both of them smiling brighter than ever.


	52. Funeral [Jon/Ygritte]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Jon/Ygritte - What to wear to a funeral.

It was the middle of the night and Ygritte was jolted awake by a booming sound crashing into the wall. Sitting upright, she could see the light was on in her closet and she sighed, knowing what was going on. It was the fourth night in a row.

Sliding out of the bed, she slowly padded her way to the cracked closet door, lit pouring through the crack enough for her to see the way. She waited a full minute, listening to hear low muttering and cursing. Each cuss was bracketed by heavy breathing and a rustling of fabric.

Pushing open the door, Ygritte was once again faced with her boyfriend standing in a sea of black and grey clothing, holding two shirts in his hands before dropping them both to the ground with shaking hands. His hair was out of the knot he had tied it in before bed and it now hung in his face. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks were wet.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he muttered lowly, his hands pulling out yet another black shirt before discarding it.

"Don't worry about it," Ygritte shrugged off, stepping further inside the small closet. There wasn't a large amount of room, but neither of them said anything as they were crammed inside.

"I don't know what to wear," he admitted sullenly, his face dead and void of emotion.

"What about the one we picked last night?" This was the fourth time they had done this, last night Jon had also discarding the outfit from the night before.

"No," he said sharply, his eyes snapping shut and he let out a puff of air. "It's not right."

Unlike the three nights previously, Ygritte stepped forward and took Jon's hands away from the clothes and turned him to face her. Rather than helping him find something else, she made him focus on her and asked, "Why?"

Jon bowed his head lower so their eyes couldn't meet. "He deserves better, Ygritte."

"I know," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him in a loose hug that he could pull out of should he need it.

"He was too young and he," Jon paused and catch his breath, "he was getting married, Ygritte. Three months from now and he would be happily married."

"I know," she repeated, cooing softly and she dragged her fingers through his hair in a comforting motion.

"It should have been me," Jon cursed, stepping closer to bury his face into her neck.

"You couldn't have known, it was a mugging and-"

Jon pulled away enough to glare. "Robb was just trying to get Arya and Sansa home. He wasn't _doing_ anything wrong."

Ygritte agreed with a sharp nod. "It wasn't fair."

"You're fucking right," Jon snapped. "I can't even find something to wear to his goddamn funeral and-" Jon stopped mid-sentence before dropping to the ground to sit in the mess of black clothing.

Ygritte followed him down. "You know it doesn't matter what you wear," Ygritte whispered, picking up his hand that was clenching some black fabric tightly. With gentle precision, she peeled each of his fingers from the black shirt. Once it was released, she tossed the shirt aside carelessly and intertwined her fingers with Jon’s. "He'd just want you to be there and stop blaming yourself. There is nothing you could do."

Ygritte knew that Jon knew that. It didn’t mean that he still didn’t wish things could be different. It didn’t mean he was still throwing blame on himself. It didn’t mean he was going to get over it quicker. All it meant is that Jon had lost his brother and he was drowning.

“Come on,” Ygritte tugged his hand lightly and stood up, “let’s go to bed.”

“But-”

“I still have the first outfit we picked,” Ygritte cut him off gently. “Don’t worry. You need to sleep.”

Jon didn’t say another word and neither did Ygritte.

* * *

Jon wore a crisp white button down shirt with a black suit jacket. He forwent wearing a tie, remembering how much Robb hated them and used to choke himself trying to put the damn things on. He wore black slacks, hands tucked inside holding his car keys tightly in one hand and his brother’s class ring in the other. His shoes were shiny and black. He had polished them every day for the past week in preparation.

Beside him, Ygritte wore a simple black dress and a gold chain around her neck. His family was also dressed in their finery and black clothing, standing on Jon’s other side, each holding back the tears. Theon Greyjoy stood far off to the side, wearing a suit that was slightly too big for him and bundled tightly around him, his eyes red.

The group watched as Robb Stark’s oak casket was lowered into the ground, revealing the tombstone: Loving Husband, Son and Brother.


	53. Observations [Sansaery]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: 22 Sansa/Margaery?
> 
> 22: “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

“Is there something wrong with my face?”

Rearing out of her thoughts, Margaery blinked. “What?”

“My face,” Sansa gestured with her hand briefly before finding her pencil again, “you keep staring at my face.”

“I’m not staring,” Margaery swallowed, sitting straighter in her chair. “Just _observing_.”

They were at Sansa’s house working on their school assignments. It was just a regular Thursday evening and the Stark house was, for once, deadly silent with it just being the two girls there. Margaery had gotten a bit distraction with the view across from her and now she was reeling in any excuse she could find to explain to her best friend _why_ she was staring at her with heart-shaped eyes.

Sansa nodded her head slowly. “Observing.”

“Yeah,” Margaery waved off with a faint smile. She didn’t need to go into detail how her observations consisted of the cute way Sansa’s nose wrinkled when she found something funny or how she bit her bottom lip off center when she worked on a particularly difficult math equation.

“The same way you observe me from across the hall?”

Margaery’s eyes widened as she looked back up at Sansa. Sansa had turned her focus back onto the problems before her but a tiny smile, almost a smirk, grazed her features.

“Wha-”

“Jeyne caught you once…maybe twice,” Sansa shrugged nonchalantly. Margaery couldn’t help but blush fire engine red. “Loras _may_ have-”

“ _Loras_?” Margaery growled. Oh, when she got home she was going to kill him. He could hide behind Willas, Garlan or Olenna all he wanted to she was going to end him.

“He just mentioned it in passing,” Sansa bit her lip again, this time to the right rather than the left as she usually did. “Don’t worry.”

“Why would I worry?” Margaery paled, her heart rising up in her throat.

Sansa shrugged, seeming to have the time of her life right now but trying to keep it all in and under the surface. “Because I didn’t want to spoil your secret.”

Swallowing roughly, Margaery smoothed the skirt of her dress. “What secret?”

Sansa looked up, flushed bright red and looked back down at her papers, “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

            “You do?” Margaery asked carefully, glancing up to meet Sansa’s eyes. This wasn’t the way she assumed this conversation would go, but it wasn’t completely awful.

“I do,” Sansa nodded with just as much care.

Taking a deep breath, Margaery folded her hands in front of her as she said, “I see, well-”

“But,” Sansa cut Margaery off gently, “I wouldn’t call those looks observations.”

Margaery raised her eyebrows at the smile threatening to burst on Sansa’s face. “You wouldn’t?”

“Nope!” Sansa shook her head. “If you were observing, you would have known those looks weren’t one sided.”

Hope blossomed painfully in Margaery’s chest as her lips twitched upward. “They weren’t?”

Sansa’s already red face grew even redder. “They haven’t been for at least two years.”

Margaery was full on grinning now and Sansa was beginning to join her in it. “Is that so?” Sansa nodded her head. “Well,” Margaery reached across the table, her fingers dancing across the back of Sansa’s hand before grabbing it, “that certainly is good news.”

Both girls sighed in relief with full on smiles as Sansa intertwined her fingers with Margaery.


	54. Pizza [Jaime/Brienne]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Jaime x Brienne, fighting over pizza toppings.

“What do you mean you want pineapple on it?” Jaime sneered as he watched Brienne pull a bowl of fresh cut pineapple from their refrigerator. “It’s a pizza, not dessert.”

Brienne raised an eyebrow as she set the pineapple beside their rolled out dough. “Have you never had Hawaiian pizza?”

Jaime wrinkled his nose in disgust. “No, I’m not a monster.”

Brienne chuckled condescendingly as she leaned against the counter. “Fine, what do _you_ want on our pizza?”

Rolling his eyes, Jaime brought forward the mozzarella and tomato in a silent request. The two of them stared at the ingredients before glancing back at each other.

“No meat?”

“Yours is just fruit?” Jaime exclaimed, raising his voice a pitch or two.

“There is ham on Hawaiian pizza, idiot.”

Rolling his eyes, Jaime grabbed the pepperoni and tossed it with his chosen ingredients. ‘There. Meat. Happy?”

“Only if we do Hawaiian,” Brienne smirked.

“That’s not going to happen,” Jaime crossed his arms.

Brienne mirrored him. “I’m not budging.”

Narrowing his eyes, Jaime plucked a pinch of flour and tossed it at Brienne, flour caking her left cheek and chin.

A whole minute went by before an evil smirk cracked on Brienne’s face. “Oh? You want to go there, Lannister?”

Brienne didn’t even give Jaime a chance to speak as she grabbed the spoon they had used to spread their red sauce and swiped it across his nose. Honestly, it was all worth it for the affronted and indigent look that came to his face, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Oh Tarth,” Jaime picked up the remaining flour and eyed the egg mixture Brienne grabbed, “bring it.”

* * *

“Do you think they will like the Dornish Red?” Shae asked, holding up the wine in question.

Tyrion shrugged, a faint smile coming to his lips. “If they don’t, more for us. Besides, it’s pizza. Red goes quite nicely with Italian.”

Shae nodded her head and knocked on the front door of Jaime and Brienne’s apartment. They waited for a full five minutes, frowning, before Tyrion knocked again but there was still no answer.

“Maybe they aren’t home?” Tyrion shook his head. If his brother was one thing, it was considerate where his family was concerned. Besides, their cars were in the lot. “Or maybe they cannot hear us?”

Tyrion shrugged, whatever the case may be, Jaime had given him a key to the place when he first moved in. Pulling out said key, Shae moved to the side to let him open the door.

The apartment living area was completely empty. Both Tyrion and Shae could see the dining table had been set and Shae set the wine bottle down on the table. Still, there was no sign of Jaime or Brienne. Tyrion ducked his head into their kitchen and blinked at the sight before him.

There seemed to be pizza ingredients and pizza toppings _everywhere_ but in the oven. Flour coated nearly every flat surface and sauce was splotched all over the place. From what Tyrion could see on the counter, the two only managed to roll the dough out on a pan and spread some pizza sauce on it before they did _this_ to their kitchen.

The doorbell rang and Tyrion came back to the living room to see Shae opening it and a pizza delivery man standing awkwardly at the door. Tyrion nudged Shae aside.

“How can I help you?”

The pizza delivery boy frowned in confusion. “You ordered a cheese pizza?”

“Did we?” Tyrion smiled at Shae before turning back to the delivery boy. “We did, apparently. Okay, how much is that then?”

With an exchange of money for the pizza, Tyrion and Shae began to set up the table, still unaware of where the hell Jaime and Brienne could be.

“Should I?” Shae was ready to go and do so.

Tyrion walked toward the door and pressed his ear against the wood to hear a shower going off. Deciding against interrupting them, Tyrion climbed into his seat and gestured for Shae to do the same.

“Why don’t you just open up that wine, hmm?”


	55. Afterlife [Jon/Ygritte]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon/Ygritte – Ygritte meets Cat and Ned for the first time.

Opening her eyes, the first thing Ygritte noticed was there was no longer a painful piercing through her chest. Gasping for breath, Ygritte found the action useless begin as her lungs were no longer operating. It took even longer for her to realize that breathing was no longer necessary.

After that, Ygritte took in the sights around her. She was inside a stone and wood shelter, far larger than anything Ygritte had ever laid her eyes on. The ceilings were nearly as tall as the wall and from them hung fixtures of wax and flame creating a sunset lighting in the room. A long table stood in the middle of the room with wooden benches on each side. The room was empty save for that and Ygritte approached the table. At the head of it, there was a seat of wood and fabric, larger than the benches and of what Ygritte would presume was royalty. Ygritte sat on the edge of the bench and looked down at the wooden table’s fine polished edge.

The door that Ygritte just now noticed swung open and people begun to fill the room. None of them seemed to notice her as they came in and took seats around the table. Ygritte watched them all: a man with dark hair like Jon and eyes like the sky, a boy with auburn hair and a healed slit across his throat, a woman with dark hair sprinkled with winter roses. The sea of people was endless and Ygritte wasn’t sure what she had done to deserve a seat with them. All of them were wearing southern clothes, cloaks of fur and fine leather.

An elderly man sat at the head of the table, eyes so blue Ygritte had never see anything similar to. Now that she thought about it, most of the inhabitants of the room had eyes of either blue or coal. At least she was about to blend in with the two of them who had also been kissed by fire: the boy with the healed slit and a woman with a fading complexion. She didn’t seem to fully be in the room as everyone else was, every now and then fading in and out of existence.

“My wife and son,” the man to her right spoke. Ygritte turned rapidly to see a man with a large gash in his neck that was bandaged and red. He had stern, but kind eyes and a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Who are you?” Ygritte asked carefully. He was the first and only person to speak to her, to even acknowledge her presence in the room.

“Eddard Stark,” Ygritte’s eyes widened as the name. “Most people call me Ned.”

Jon’s father. What was she doing in his company? Wasn’t he passed? Why was she-

It came back quickly. The attack on The Wall, an arrow aimed at Jon, a different arrow piecing her chest, Jon’s arms around her, the world growing quieter and quieter.

Ygritte whipped her head down toward the hugging red heads. His mother and brother then. Although he was a bastard so…half-brother and maternal figure, something like that?

“Cat,” Ned spoke in a low voice but despite the loudness of the room, she perked her head up and drifted toward him. The half-brother stayed where he was, petting a direwolf similar to Ghost but with grey fur and yellow eyes.

As she approached, another woman with blue flowers in her hair smiled fondly at Ygritte before kissing the cheek of a man older than Ned but close in appearance and cupped the face of another man that looked like Ned but was younger.

“Is this her?” ‘Cat’ asked, not sitting at the table but hanging close by.

“Ay, it is.” Ned rested a heavy hand on Ygritte’s shoulder. It was jarring to feel such a presence but still not be able to breathe. ‘Cat’ didn’t say anything further, just watching with dead eyes and a plastered smile on her face. Ned must have read Ygritte’s concerned look. “She isn’t all the way here yet.”

Ygritte wasn’t sure where _here_ was let alone how one could be half in and half out. “Where are we?”

“This is where all the souls of the fallen come. The Starks are here.”

“But I’m not a Stark.” She was a wildling. _Jon_ wasn’t even a Stark and that had been her only interaction with someone of this blood.

“No, you aren’t,” Ned agreed. “You can leave should you want, but-” Ned waved his hand around to show that all eyes were on her now, even the two wolves in the room: the half-brother’s and another “-you don’t have to. Jon was my son.” The woman with blue flowers giggled at that. “He is family and so are you.”

Ygritte swallowed, the eyes that were on her turned away except for Ned Stark’s. Ygritte wasn’t sure she wanted to stay but she also wasn’t sure she wanted to leave. Did her people have something like this? What lay on the other side of those oak doors? How long would she have to wait until Jon joined her? Part of her hoped not too soon, they were both so young, but the other part of her wanted to be back with him now.

“You don’t have to make a decision now,” Ned offered. “You can take your time.”

Ygritte nodded her head and looked around the room as it continued to have people trickle in. Perhaps she would do just that. Take her time and maybe wait for Jon before she came to a decision.

“Okay.”

Ned smiled. “Good.”


	56. Bachelor Party [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off a picture that says: "*man walks into a bar covered in kiss marks* haha yeah well you should see the other guy."
> 
> mywolfking: "...It's not the "bar part" the one that I love, but all the kissing fight" thing. Like, maybe they could find Sansa's lipsticks and- WELL. [Theon and Robb are] idiots, I have no problems picturing them like this.

“Snow!” Ygritte was smirking at him over the table of his booth. “You see Greyjoy around?”

Jon groaned, closing his eyes. “No, but I haven’t seen Robb either so I’m sure we can limit down where they ‘snuck off’ to.”

Ygritte shook her head, grinning wildly. “Even today they can’t bother to stay apart. Kind of sweet if you think about it.”

“Or fucking dumb,” Jon muttered, taking a shot and wincing as it burned down his throat. “Only those two would pick the same bar to have their fucking bachelor parties. What is even the point of planning two of them?”

Ygritte rolled her eyes. “They are so wasted on each other. Asha is finally getting bored of doing shots with Arya so she sent me to find him.”

“I’m more bothered than surprised the two of them are getting along so well,” Jon rubbed his face tiredly. “Arya and Asha...too similar.”

“Well, if Arya was on the Robb side of the bar, then you’d have to deal with her and Gendry making kissy faces at each other,” Ygritte winked.

Jon pulled a face but he understood the point. It was the same reason Ygritte and Jon were at “different” bachelor parties. Ygritte, Asha, Arya, Loras, Renly, Wex and Margaery were at Theon’s half of the bar while Jon, Sansa, Gendry, Sam, Jon Umber and the Karstark brothers were on Robb’s half. Of course, after the first twenty minutes that line got hella blurry and now they were all kind of intermingling, ruining what was supposed to be two bachelor parties, now making it one average party with both guests of honor probably fucking in the bathroom.

As if they hadn’t both been held up in the bar bathroom for thirty minutes (34 and a half, but it wasn’t like Jon was keeping track or anything), Theon and Robb sauntered out. Theon licked his lips, winked at Jon like a private _fuck you, I’m going to fuck my fiancé despite your stupid bachelor party plans_ and crossed over to his side of the bar where his sister was.

Jon stared as Robb slipped back into the booth, dark red smudges painting his face and neck and the little bit of skin Jon could see peeping from his brother’s mis-buttoned shirt. They were kiss marks. Jon’s eyes darted across the bar to see Theon wrapped an arm around Renly and Asha’s shoulders as they handed him another shot. His lips were smudged red, obviously trying to wipe off the lipstick he had worn but it still staining his lips and the surrounding areas red.

Robb, in all his ridiculousness, pretended not to even notice the fact that his hair was sticking up like he was freshly fucked. Beside Jon, Ygritte already began laughing before kissing Jon on the cheek and crossing back to her side of the bar. Sansa took her place almost immediately.

“Successful trip to the bathroom, huh,” Sansa smiled widely. Jon glared at his sister as she slipped of tube of lipstick into her purse and Jon couldn’t fucking believe she was supporting this, then again Sansa had always been a big supporter of any romance, especially a tortured on like Theon and Robb were in the early days.

Robb at least had the decency to blush. “Just your average going.”

Sansa sniggered loudly at this and Jon had the urge to push her out of the booth. “Can’t even go one night?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Robb shrugged off, taking a napkin from the table and wiped his face.

Jon shook his head in dismay, muttering sarcastically, “You missed a spot.”

“Where?” Robb looked up and, yup, his brother was completely wasted. Well, at least he wasn’t that far gone. He was still holding up a conversation decently and was only half slumped in the seat.

Sansa’s smile grew impossibly bigger. “It’d be easier to point out the spots that weren’t red. Can’t even imagine what it is like underneath-”

“And we don’t want to,” Jon looked pointedly at Sansa to _shut her the hell up._ “You are just as bad as they are.”

“Learned from the best!” Sansa cheered as she swiped the napkin from Robb and helped wipe a particularly prominent kiss mark on his jaw line. “Seriously, you two are a mess and you owe me a new lipstick. You got this thing everywhere.”

“You should see the other guy,” Robb winked before falling into a mess of giggles.

Jon bashed his head on the table. He couldn’t imagine this getting any better when the two idiots got married tomorrow. Gods be fucking good.


	57. Round Trip [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: So my mom was telling me this story about how when my parents were really young and they first started dating, my dad moved a couple towns away and how everyday he would take an hour long bus ride over to see my mom for a few hours and how he did this for years until he could move back and I thought it was just so freakin' cute! And I was thinking like "what if Throbb" and then I thought of you! So maybe prompt?

When the alarm clock sounded, Jon buried his head underneath the pillow on the bottom bunk to block out the sound as Robb jolted awake on the top. Less than fifteen seconds passed before Robb hoped off the top bunk and shut the alarm off. Neither Robb nor Jon didn’t need to look at the clock to see the time read 4:30 a.m.

“Sorry,” Robb whispered as he shucked off his pajamas and grabbing the shirt and pants he had set aside the evening before. “Go back to sleep.”

Jon pulled his head from under the pillow and cracked his eyes open to look at Robb who was pulling on his shoes and fixed his watch around his wrist. Lazily dragging his fingers through his hair in a form of brushing, Robb grabbed his backpack with his textbooks from the desk.

“See you for dinner?” Jon asked, his voice slurred with sleep. Robb didn’t always join the family for dinner anymore, sometimes not returning home till quite late.

“Yeah, definitely.” Robb kept his voice low and light. “Go back to sleep and I’ll see you after class.”

Quietly, Robb slipped out of the room, backpack slung over his shoulder. He made it way down the stairs, only popping into the kitchen for a minute to grab the muffin, apple and newspaper Sansa had step aside for him the night before. With one scratch for Grey Wind behind the ears, Robb ducked out of the house and began to make his way to the bus station.

Like clockwork, he arrived five minutes before his bus arrived. Once it came, he paid his normal fare and nodded a silent hello to the bus driver, Rodrik Cassel. Taking his seat, the fourth one back next the left window, Robb opened his backpack and pulled out his newspaper.

Scanning through the paper, Robb picked at his muffin but kept the apple untouched. He listened to his music and watched the sun rise. He did a sudoku puzzle and the morning crosswords, slowly eating away at the hour long ride.

Two more stops before his own, the seat next to him was filled and Robb glanced up to see Wex Pyke. While Wex didn’t speak, the two of them had gotten into a rather amicable friendship over the past year of riding the bus everyday together. Robb passed him the apple and Wex traded with him, handing over a bag of blue berries.

As their stop came, both of them stood up and exited the bus, nodding another silent greeting to Rodrik before stepping off.

Robb grinned widely as he saw who was waiting for him on the bus bench, sitting down beside him. Theon set his book aside and signed to Wex that he’d meet him for work in a bit.

“I can’t stay long today,” Robb murmured, pressing his side against Theon’s.

“I know,” Theon sighed. “Tomorrow is Friday though.”

“I can stay much later then,” Robb smiled, look around for anyone else. Seeing none, he went in for a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling back to sit as they were once more. “I got you blue berries.”

“You or Wex?” Theon smirked.

“Not my fault Rickon’s allergic to them.” Robb shrugged. “I traded with Wex and therefore they are mine and now yours.”

“I know,” Theon sighed heavily. “This sucks.”

“It’s not so bad.”

Theon looked up at Robb like he was full of shit. “Twenty minutes a day? You taking a bus for two hours to accomplish it?”

“It could be worse,” Robb shrugged off. “It could be only twenty minutes once a week. Besides, I only have to take a tiny detour when going to Uni.”

“A two hour long detour,” Theon pointed out. “This seriously can’t be worth it for you.”

Robb shrugged, cautiously slipping his hand into Theon’s. “It’s not forever, right? It sucks for now, sure, but soon enough it’ll all be over.”

“You sound so sure.” Theon wasn’t. They had been doing this song and dance for a year and it seemed like there was no end in sight.

“Do you want to work for your dad?” Robb asked, already knowing the answer.

“No, but I can’t afford not to.”

“So, when I graduate and get a place, you can move in with me and figure out what you want to do next.” Robb squeezed his hand. “We’ll figure it out so don’t sweat it.”

“You’re such an optimist,” Theon laughed.

“One of us has to be,” Robb glance around again before coming in for another kiss. “Maybe I’ll miss the next bus.”

“You’ll be late for your first class if you do.”

Robb shrugged. “One class isn’t going to kill me and you don’t have work for another hour, right?”

Theon couldn’t help but grin all the wider, relief replacing dissatisfaction.


	58. Translator [Throbb + Asha]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Prompt: Asha being Theon's wingman in pursuing Robb and embarrassing him??
> 
> [Note: Greek!Greyjoys make another appearance for self indulgent reasons]

As they parked the car, Theon threw his sister a warning look. “Don’t screw this up for me,” Theon warned in Greek.

Asha smiled menacingly back and pinched the apples of his cheeks hard. “Worry not little brother, my English is perfect.”

Theon narrowed his eyes but he really had no room to speak. His English was shit. He knew a handful of words, half of them pointless adjectives and the other half of them were pointless verbs. The nouns were okay, but his English comprehensive was basically at a kindergarten level (and that was being generous). But, considering he had only lived in the States for two months, he wasn’t doing too badly. Although, he was never going to be as fluent as Asha, as she kept reminding him.

“Let’s go and _be nice_ ,” Theon begged. Asha had the tendency to be a little brash and rude, especially when people didn’t know how to take her personality.

“You really have it bad for him, huh?” Asha teased.

Theon blushed but climbed out of the car. He had been attending classes at the local university as a way to practice his language as well as finish up his degree in Chemistry. The great thing about science classes was that many of the words were already Greek (either with the roots or the prefixes and suffixes) or they were the same in all languages. However, he was struggling with his humanity classes, especially his Modern Novels class.

The books were already translated from their original languages to English, causing some abnormal sentence structures and phrases _and_ Theon wasn’t allowed to be using the Greek version of the texts, only as reference points. Needless to say, Theon wasn’t doing too great in the class and had requested a tutor. Asha was tagging along as his translator to make sure he could understand the concepts of the novel first, than the language.

“Is that him?” Asha asked as they crossed the parking lot, the red headed tutor waving at them with a bright smile on his face.

“Yes,” Theon ducked his head, feeling warmth spread to the back of his neck. “He’s name is Robb.”

“Aw,” Asha whispered mockingly as Robb grew closer, “you have a crush!”

Theon glanced up wide eyed. “No! No, no!”

“Hello,” Asha gracefully switched to English.

Theon watched them talk, only picking up a few words: sister, tutor, learning, helping, translate. He kept his face neutral but tried not to glare as Asha threw him a smirk that clearly said: _Don’t worry, little brother, I’m going to help you hit this._

Eventually, they made their way inside the library, Asha and Robb talking but Theon’s language barrier preventing him from actually picking up what they were saying. He could pick out a few words but the rest flooded his brain and he couldn’t make sense of anything.

They picked a table in the very back. Robb and he sat across from each other while Asha sat between them. Asha turned to Theon.

“You’re telling me this kid is your type?” she asked, her Greek loud and proud and Theon prayed no one else could speak the language.

“I didn’t say that!” Theon hissed back, keep his voice low. Robb only watched, oblivious to what their conversation was actually about. “Just focus on translating.”

“Fine,” Asha rolled her eyes. She exchanged some words in English with the tutor before turning back to Theon. “He wants to know if you understood Gustave’s death metaphor at the end of the novel. Gods, this is boring as shit, Theon.”

“Shut up,” Theon snapped. “Just tell him I did but I wasn’t sure if there were references elsewhere.”

Sighing, as if she hadn’t volunteered to be his translator and this whole experience was a chore, Asha turned to Robb once more. They went back and forth for a minute, Theon watching in confusion as Robb’s face turned pink and Asha laughed. Dread filled his stomach.

“What are you saying?” Theon asked, kicking Asha under the table.

“That you like red heads,” Asha threw back in Greek and swiftly went back to English.

“What the hell!” Theon blinked.

“Don’t worry,” Asha grinned at him, “he thinks you’re cute.”

Theon paused before looking down at the table. “Exact words?”

“Close enough,” Asha rolled her eyes. “You better learn English quick. I’m not going on dates with you two.”

Robb spoke up again, his voice much more quiet than before and Asha’s face broke out into a grin as she spoke back with pure glee. Robb grinned back and Theon wondered what the deal they struck up was.

“He’s picking you up Friday at seven,” Asha clapped her hand on his shoulder. “He’s bringing an online translator. I smell romance.”

“Fuck off,” Theon shoved her hand off. “But tell him that would be nice.”


	59. Friends [Sansaery + Jeyne Poole]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veridissima: Could you write something with Sansaery and Jeyne Poole? Maybe like a movie night, with Sansa wanting her girlfriend and best friend to be friends. Or maybe Jeyne and Margaery teaming up to organize a surprise party for Sansa, or something like that...
> 
> [Note: Kept this very short and sweet]

“Sansa,” Margaery looked her girlfriend deep in the eyes and held her hand tenderly, “I have some horrible news. I’m really sorry about all of this.”

Sansa blinked, a frown coming to her lips. The night had been going fantastic thus far, or at least that’s what she had thought. She had only gone away for a few minutes to get popcorn for the next movie (they were on the third Harry Potter movie with hopes to get to Order of the Phoenix by morning) so she couldn’t imagine what had transpired in the what? Five minutes she had been away.

Sansa had decided to hold a little impromptu sleepover while her parents were away and her brothers and sister were out of the house for the weekend. Nothing too crazy, just her girlfriend of three months and her best friend of nearly a decade. To be honest, Sansa had organized the whole event in the hopes of Margaery and Jeyne getting to know each other better. Jeyne was a bit of…an acquired taste, but Sansa loved her to bits. Margaery and Jeyne just simply never had the chance to hang out and Sansa wanted more than anything for the three of them to be able to hang out and have a good time. She just wanted her best friend and her girlfriend to be friends. (She did _not_ want a Robb-Jon-Theon situation even though she was pretty sure Jon and Theon were half joking about hating each other).

“What’s going on?” Sansa asked worried, eyes darting from Margaery sitting before her and Jeyne lounging on the couch behind them.

Margaery sighed deeply through her nose. “I’m leaving you.” Margaery left a lengthy pause before a hint of a smile came through. “For Jeyne.”

“We are very much in love,” Jeyne cooed from the couch, her fingers combing through Margaery’s hair lovingly and wearing the same cat-smile as Margaery.

Margaery glanced back and winked. “So in love, darling.” She turned back to Sansa. “We’ve decided to cut out of middle man…woman, really.” She through her a wink to just cover that this was in fact a joke.

A broad smile crossed Sansa’s face. “Is that so?”

Margaery and Jeyne both nodded their heads firmly.

“It was kismet, we are meant for each other.”

“I hope we can still be friends, darling.”

Margaery kissed her cheek and Jeyne jokingly made a retching sound.

“But on a serious note,” Margaery draped her arm around Sansa’s shoulders while Jeyne switched to playing with Sansa’s hair and begun to braid it, “Jeyne and I are going to the mall while we wait for you to come from Choir on Wednesday.”

“Did you know that Margaery _also_ likes comics?” Jeyne whispered excitedly. “Seriously, I should switch best friends.” Jeyne looked pointedly at Sansa although there was joking mirth in her eyes as well.

“Garlan was really into them,” Margaery shrugged.

Sansa didn’t care that their bonding moment would be over comic books. In her mind, she could mark the night ‘mission accomplished.’ _Take that Robb._


	60. Baseball [Robb + Theon + Jon]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Modern AU where young Robb, Jon, and Theon were playing baseball and have to go ask the stingy neighbor Tywin for the ball they accidentally batted over the fence

"Not it!" Robb yelped, Theon echoing him almost immediately. Jon watched helpless as the other two boys gave each other high fives, Theon going as far as to stick his tongue out at Jon. Robb had the decency to look sorry for his brother. "Sorry, Jon. You know the rules."

"He isn't even going to give it back!" Jon crossed his arms angrily. "What's the point?"

"You don't know that," Robb smiled sheepishly. “Stranger things have happened.”

"Yeah, we do," Theon instantly contradicted him and smirked at Jon. "But rules are rules."

" _You're_ the one who batted it over the fence!" Jon pointed his finger an inch from Theon's smirking face.

They had just been playing a fun, innocent game of baseball. Of course, Theon ruined it with one bad hit and now their ball was in the No Man’s Land of Old Man Tywin Lannister’s backyard.

"But you lost." Theon shrugged and looked at Robb for back up.

"Rules and rules," Robb agreed, but turned to give Theon a stern look, "but we will come with because that's what friends do."

Both Jon and Theon groaned loudly. Robb had been trying for the good part of three years to get them to be friends. If anything, Jon and Theon were worse off than before but that didn't stop the optimistic red head from trying.

"Come on," he grabbed his brother and best friend by the sleeves of their shirts and yanked them forward toward the large imposing house with the two terracotta lions at the entrance of the driveway.

As the three boys climbed the steps of the three-story home, even Robb's courage seemed to waiver. Old Man Tywin Lannister was just that. An old, angry man whose children were spoiled brats and his grandkids were even worse. Robb's dad had said Old Man Lannister was from a different, harder generation. Theon said he had a stick up is ass. Ned never contradicted Theon, only gave him a stern comment about proper language for twelve year old boys.

Once on the porch, Robb nudge Jon on his right to hit the doorbell. With trembling fingers, the button boomed loud church bells with grave harmonies. Even Theon jumped at the sound, the mask of cool he always wore beginning to fade.

A few minutes later the large oak front doors swung open and Old Man Tywin Lannister stood before them, cold eyes and a sharp frown making the three youths take a step back. Even though it was two in the afternoon on a bright summer Saturday, Tywin Lannister wore a black and grey suit despite almost never leaving his house anymore.

Old Man Tywin Lannister eyed each boy, disgust coloring his expression at each head. "What?" His voice was clipped and as cold as his eyes.

Theon and Robb both shot Jon a look to speak, Jon squaring his shoulders and begging the gods for extra courage. "Our ball-"

"Speak up, young man," Tywin instantly cut Jon off, his face pulling into an unimpressed sneer. "No one will take you seriously with a voice like that."

Jon swallowed roughly and felt Robb drift further away and closer to Theon. "Our ball fell into your yard." Jon spoke louder but his voice trembled at the end.

"Fell or was hit?" Old Man Tywin narrowed his eyes.

"Hit," Robb answered, his voice a low ashamed whisper.

"Why would you hit it in my yard?" Tywin sneered.

"We didn't do it on purpose," Theon rolled his eyes, fed up with the old man.

Old Man Tywin's eyes drifted to Theon. "You're Balon's son?" Jon and Robb both could see the color on Theon's face drain. He wasn't _supposed_ to be playing with them, the whole neighborhood knew that. Tywin didn't wait for an answer. "If you didn't mean to do it on purpose than why is it in my yard?"

"Can we just have it back?" Robb asked in his kindest voice, the one he used to silence baby Rickon when he began to cry.

Tywin snorted and slammed the door in their face. The three boys stood there dumbfounded.

"What an asshole!" Jon broke the silence, surprising both Stark and Greyjoy with such language.

"Is he going to tell your dad?" Robb turned worried to Theon.

Theon's eyes were still glued on the door. "My dad won't answer so it doesn't matter." A nasty gleam came over his eyes. "Stark, Snow," Theon turned to Jon, "we're going to get the ball back. Robb," he grabbed his best friend by the shoulders, "get a cartoon of eggs and the Karstark boys. Snow, call the Umbers and the Reeds. Hell, even your weird D&D nerd friends."

Jon caught on quickly. "And the toilet paper, Robb!"

Theon actually smiled at Jon and while Robb didn't normally condone this behavior, he was thrilled his best mate and brother were getting along.

"I'll rally the troops."

Quickly, the three boys raced in opposite directions. Robb raced for the house to get the necessary weapons from the armory. Jon hit every door down the street, calling the banners, and Theon called in a favor from his favorite (only) older sister. She was seventeen and had friends who were even older. Tywin Lannister wouldn’t stand a chance.

Old Man Tywin Lannister wanted to play mean and dirty; Theon, Robb and Jon could give just as well as they could take. As Asha's car full of older teens pulled up and the size of egg cartoons and toilet paper rolls added up into a sizable pile, the three boys wondered if Lannister was ready for the thunder.

This was _war_.


	61. Artistic [Jon/Ygritte]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Jon/Ygritte – prompt 19.
> 
> 19\. “The paint’s supposed to go where?”

“What the bloody hell is that supposed to be?” Ygritte cackled as she looked over Jon’s shoulder. Across the picnic table, Rickon Stark, Bran Stark and Dryn Gaintsbane peered over at Jon’s piece of paper.

Ygritte and Jon were babysitting, for lack of a better word. Ygritte had actually been watching Dryn, Tormund’s son, for a week as they headed north to go visit some distant relatives. Jon was watching Bran and Rickon for the afternoon and Jon and Ygritte decided that they should let the three boys play together…they also had plans to get away for a few minutes to make out but that was neither here nor there.

“It’s wolf,” Jon muttered embarrassed, red creeping up the back of his neck. Ygritte and Jon had set up some arts and crafts outside for the boys to occupy themselves.

“Why’s it all white?” Dryn asked, face scrunched up.

“Because Ghost is white!” Rickon defended quickly.

“Or Jon’s lazy,” Bran smirked.

Ygritte grinned. “Yeah, lazy boy, add some color!” Ygritte pushed the paint set toward Jon.

Sighing heavily, Jon grabbed a brush and dipped it in the red, all too aware that Ygritte and the three boys were watching him with hawk-like vigilance. He painted the eyes, just like Ghost’s even though his drawing was mediocre at best.

“Come on, Jon,” Rickon groaned, “you can do better than that!”

Setting down the brush heavily, Jon pointed at Ygritte’s Paint By Numbers. “What about her? She hasn’t done anything.”

“He’s right,” Dryn nodded his head gravely.

“Fair is fair,” Bran agreed with Rickon nodding along.

Ygritte pulled the water color set towards her and dipped her brush in the blue. As she went to begin painting, she could feel Jon’s hair tickling her cheek as he looked over her shoulder. “The sun’s not blue.”

Narrowing her eyes, rather than painting the sheet, she dragged the brush down the line of Jon’s nose. He flinched back but the damage was done. Rickon, Bran and Dryn burst into laughter while Jon’s eyes flashed in a challenge.

Seconds later, Ygritte’s cheeks were bright red, strands of her hair sticking to her cheeks.

“Honey,” Ygritte said with sugary malice, “that’s not where the paint’s supposed to go.”

“Then,” Jon leaned forward, smirking, “the paint’s supposed to go where?”

Before Ygritte could retort, both Jon and she were hit with a splat of yellow paint, Rickon grinning devilishly.

“You better run,” Jon threatened lightly. Rickon was already halfway across the backyard with Bran and Dryn in his wake.

Neither Ygritte nor Jon moved. She looked at him, admiring the blue strip down his nose and the clump of yellow in his hair. She could feel the yellow sticking to her temple. Flashing him a smile, Ygritte leaned over and rubbed her red cheek against Jon. This time, rather than moving away, he simply shifted his head over and captured her lips. Ygritte pressed back insistently but Jon pulled away a second later, wiping his nose against hers to transfer some of his blue.

“You little piece of-”

“Shh,” Jon grinned, standing up from the table to retrieve the children, “language.”

Rolling her eyes, Ygritte made no move to wipe the paint away. “I expect a shower later.”

Jon didn’t say anything as he jogged off, but his reddening, paint-free neck was all the answer she needed.


	62. Games [Jon/Ygritte + Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guest: I want to know more about the past games and Ygritte's wildling games lol. Maybe a continuation of this please?
> 
> [kind of a continuation of chapter 35]

“Should I be nervous that we’ve been invited to a game night?” Robb whispered into Theon’s ear as Ygritte set a bowl of chips down at the table. “I heard from Sansa that Margaery is refusing to go to them if Ygritte hosts.”

“As long as you don’t agree to play Bear Drop, you are all good,” Theon shrugged.

Robb stared at him for a long moment. “What the fuck is Bear Drop?”

“Do you want to play?” Ygritte walked in and leaned over the table, Jon reeling her back by the collar of her shirt until she was fit snug beside him on the opposite couch.

Tonight was a double-date of sorts. Ygritte and Robb had come up with the idea and each of them had to persuade Jon and Theon to agree. It was a mixture of puppy-dog eyes, punches and make-out sessions before both stubborn assholes agreed. Arya and Gendry had also been invited but, an hour later, Gendry had taken Arya on an impromptu road trip to the beach so they were out.

“Nope, just pick something,” Theon cut in before Robb could make things worse and Ygritte would bring out the knives again. Gendry was still complaining about the _minor_ cut on his foot even though he won the game. Out of all the wildling games Ygritte insisted them playing, Bear Drop was one of the more dangerous ones and the reason Margaery wouldn’t come over to Ygritte’s anymore. At least for now.

“You’re no fun,” Ygritte rolled her eyes. “Fine, why don’t we play Bone and Claw?”

Jon looked at Ygritte incredible. “What the fuck?”

“Don’t ask,” Theon sneered. “It’s gross.”

“You’re just squeamish!” Ygritte smirked.

Realization came to Jon’s face as he grimaced, “Please don’t tell me you use actual bones.”

“They are sterilized chicken bones, you pansies.”

Jon shared Theon’s look of disgust but Robb, on the other hand, looked ridiculously fascinated. It was the history major coming to play. Goddamnit.

“That’s so weird,” Robb agreed with his boyfriend and brother, “but I want to know more.”

“Trust me,” Theon prodded Robb’s side, “you don’t.” Theon turned to Ygritte. “Do you have normal board games?”

“No,” Ygritte rolled her eyes. “I have the games I grew up with.”

“You played with chicken bones as a child?” Robb asked.

Ygritte snorted, “Back then they were deer antlers. Much more fun than chicken bones, to be completely honest.”

“This is horrifying,” Jon muttered.

Ygritte grinned bright and proud, “Wait until next week when we go to Tormund’s place. I’ll show you some truly spectacular games.”

“Please don’t bright them back,” Theon groaned as he dug into his back pocket and pulled out a deck of cards. Robb raised an eyebrow in question. “Always be prepared at Game Night.”

“What a boy scout,” Robb whistled but opened the deck and began to shuffle. “Alright, what are we playing? Poker? Gin?”

“Oh!” Ygritte bounced up excitedly, “Or we can do Wolves and Spears or Dead Man’s Coffin.”

“Okay,” Theon crossed his arms tightly over his chest, “you are making these up, fuckin’ liar.”

Ygritte waggled her eyebrows, “I don’t know, Greyjoy, am I?”

“I don’t want to find out,” Jon muttered.

“Agreed,” Robb began dealing cards, “let’s just play Gin.”

“Then Wolves and Spears,” Ygritte collected her cards.

The three boys shared a mutual look before Jon sighed loudly. “Does it involve dead animals, bones or knives?”

Ygritte winked, “It doesn’t half to.”


	63. Public [Gendrya]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guest: I'd also like to request some steamy fluff involving Gendrya with references to chapter 23 and Gendry's hesitance to get limber anywhere outside the bedroom, please?

Arya was sloshed. Well, maybe not _sloshed_ but definitely drunk and definitely trying to get into Gendry’s pants right now.

“ _Arya_ ,” Gendry hissed as he seized both her hands in one of his, “what do you think you’re doing?”

Arya rolled her eyes as if that was the stupidest question Gendry had ever asked, and she and Hot Pie had an actual running list of stupid questions ever asked. “Getting closer to you, _idiot_.”

_Ah, what a charmer my girlfriend is._ However, Gendry had a more pressing concern besides her choice of affectionate nicknames. “Here?”

They were in the middle of a bar, Arya recently became of drinking age so instead of smuggling drinks in his apartment, they decided to go out and celebrate some random event (more just an excuse to drink, but they were young- sue them). That celebration includes their mutual friends and, for Arya, her family. Family Gendry didn’t want seeing them get intimate. Particularly the two older brothers across the bar. Even more specifically, the one that had caught them (hopefully only) once before.

“Where else, silly?” Arya leaned heavily on him, nuzzling her face into his neck. Gendry would be lying if he said the action didn’t turn him on, especially the little bites and kisses she left in her wake, but this was _absolutely the wrong place and time, damn it_.

“Home?” Gendry said hopefully.

 Arya snorted. “We aren’t home, dork.”

“I think that was the point I was trying to make.” Gendry looked across the bar to find Jon watching them and Gendry backed away leaving Arya tittering on her stool.

Gendry would love to flirt and kiss his girlfriend in public. He might have even been down for getting frisky in more public areas, but not since Jon Snow walked in on them. They hadn’t even been anywhere scandalous, just the living room but it taught Gendry a valuable lesson. Intimacy was for private eyes and the bedroom- Not even the living room where someone could walk in. Arya didn’t seem to pick up the same lesson.

“We could go to the bathroom,” Arya grinned wickedly, her fingers trailing up and down his bare arms.

“But your brother?”

Arya cackled, loudly as she gasped for air. “You’re thinking about Robb as I try to seduce you? I mean, we know he likes guys but I just didn’t think you di-”

“No, not Robb,” Gendry rolled his eyes and hissed, “I’m think about _Jon_.”

Okay, that didn’t sound right; Gendry realized that as Arya burst into another fit of laughter, clutching her stomach. At least the moment was ruined and they could go back to having a platonic good time with their friend and family and save the intimacy for later ( _home_ ).

Fucking wrong.

A moment later, Arya was stumbling off her barstool and leaning heavily on Gendry, hands running down his sides and fingers hooked on the waistband of his jeans. “Come on,” she whispered into his ear and _damn it_ he wished there were home. Actually, _no_ , he wished Jon never saw them. “Let’s go, Waters.”

“Where?”

Arya wrinkled her nose as she smiled drunkenly and brightly at him. “Somewhere private. And don’t worry; we can see Jon first so you can get him off your mind.”

Arya didn’t even give him time to refute, grabbing his arm and yanking him forward- and _yes_ , she was strong for her size.

“Jon,” Arya giggled and her brother smiled amused before glaring at Gendry, “we wanted to say _hi_ before we leave.”

“Leaving already?” Jon raised an eyebrow.

Beside him, Theon and Robb shared a matching grin, Theon leaning over Robb to whisper in Jon’s ear loud enough for the whole bar to hear and possibly deafening Jon for life, “They’re going to make another trip to the living room if you want to peep again!”

Theon and Robb burst into laughter. Jon and Gendry flushed angry shades of matching red and Arya just looked down right confused.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Arya shrugged innocently but the glint in her eye made Gendry know the next words were going to be life ruining, “we are just going to go into the car.” She turned back to Gendry with a big smile. “ _Privacy!_ ” She winked like she had his back when she had really only thrown him under the bus.

_Gods, help me._


	64. Mispronounce [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr user distractedbylife: Throbb based off [this post](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/post/146302414399/sunglassesem0ji-i-tried-to-say-fuck-off-and%20) which says-“I tried to say fuck off and fight me at the same time and I said fuck me”

"Stop laughing," Robb snapped, elbowing Theon's side.

Theon just cracked a large grin. "But it's funny."

Robb scowled and Theon burst into another fit of laughter. "You're a child."

Theon just laughed louder. " _I'm_ the child? But you're the one-"

"Shut up!" It was more of a whine than a command therefore Theon was not inclined to let up. His laughter continued, taunting Robb and his act of kindness.

"Gods, you are just so noble and valiant, aren't you? Bet you couldn’t even help it when she asked, huh?"

" _Theon_ ," Robb bit out a warning.

"Admit that you kind of enjoy it," Theon pressed, eyes dancing with delight. "Come on, Stark, you _love_ it, being a knight in shining armor and all that."

"I don't." Robb crossed his arms defensively. He was so done with this conversation and Theon's jabs. He does _one_ nice thing for his sister’s friend and Theon won’t let it go, even four hours later.

"Yes, you do." Theon ignored Robb's defensive position and pressed his shoulder against Robb's, nearly tipping them over. Robb’s mistake was not pushing him away and Theon took that as the chance to continue. "Admit it and we can stop this asinine conversation."

“This is hardly a conversation.”

“My point still stands.”

"I'm just doing it as a favor," Robb groaned, scrubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"But you still enjoy it," Theon prodded, not letting up in the slightest.

"Fuck off."

"Now," Theon furrowed his eyebrows in mock-disappointment, "that's no way to talk to a friend, a _best_ friend."

"Fuck. _Off_."

Theon gasped, hand over his heart. "Are you saying we aren't best friends? Is that you aren't saying, you sly fucker."

A coy smile broke across Robb's face. "Fuck off."

Theon attempted to look unimpressed but his smile was making it hard to believe. "Don't think this doesn't detract from the fact that you said yes and that next Friday you are bailing on me so can take Jeyne Poole to the eight grade prom. Are you and Sansa going to share the limo? Are you going to ditch me and become best friends with Joffrey? I can see it now.” Theon taunted. Robb sighed loudly and Theon continued with a clever chortle. “Are you hoping you'll be prom king since you didn’t get the chance when we were in the eighth grade? Those eighth graders don't stand a chance against the suave high school football star, do they?"

You know that moment when two retorts come to your head and you can't decide which is better? And then you're running out of time because if you don't answer your jackass friend wins the argument? So you reach a point where you go ‘fuck it’ and spit out something because anything is better than letting him win another argument ‘cause then he’ll turn into an even bigger (adorable) insufferable prick? And you just go for it, still undecided and just praying for the best? And that best is a god-awful mash up of the two? And then you are left with the option to either roll with it or snap your trap shut? Yeah, well…

"Ugh, fuck me," Robb growled and stuttered to a stop at his words.

Theon had looked ready to strike back but as soon as he fully registered Robb's words he came to a jarring halt.

Both sat on the edge of Robb's bed, silence filling the space between them. Blood rushed to Robb's cheeks as they burned white hot and he tried to reel back his thoughts to form an eloquent sentence before Theon could make a jok-

"A little forward for my tastes but I don't see why we can't just roll with it." The bastard was grinning- _no_ , smirking -with glee. "’Think Snow will hear us next door?"

"Screw you." Robb ended up settling for as he pushed Theon away. Again, poor choice of words.

"I'm trying to help you do just that." Oh, he was oh-so smug about that one.

Robb snapped his mouth open and shut in quick succession before he tried to speak again. "I misspoke, you jackass."

"You want me to screw you then?" Theon winked, cocking his head to the side. "I'm pretty flexible- take that as you will." Queue eyebrow waggle.

"I meant to say 'fuck off' and 'fight me'," Robb clarified but the annoying smile plastered on Theon's face told him that he wasn't going to let it go. It was debatable if Theon was even listening to him.

"But your inner desires pushed you to say what's been on your subconscious! I bet you've been wanting it for years," Theon shook head back. "I know, I'm irresistible. You can’t help it. I _get_ it."

Robb got up from his bed. He knew he wasn't winning this conversation. "I'm going." In five minutes, the novelty of the joke will die and Theon will move onto something else.

Theon fell back on the bed pouting. "But we had a deal! What about the fucking?"

"Gods," Robb cursed quietly to himself because they had plagued him with a best friend like _that_.

"You'll need your tree gods when I'm done with you," Theon was quick to respond.

Robb smacked his forehead with Theon's laughter echoing in the background. _Goddamnit_.


	65. "Fuck You" In Flower [Lenly]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Renly X Loras prompt for that post you reblogged: Person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day, slaps 20 bucks on the counter and says “How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?”
> 
> Based off [this post](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/post/146031225839/flower-shop-au)

It was another boring day, in Loras' high and _very_ important opinion. Once again, he was forced to spend the summer manning his family's flower shop- _The Rose’s Thorn (Growing Strong!)_. Really, it did nothing to get him laid and everything to press on more gay stereotypes, never mind the fact that he was actually pretty good at what he did- flower arranging, that is.

It's a family business, one that dates back further than Loras would care to think about. Currently, his grandmother ruled it with an iron fist and was looking to pass it on. Normal societies would have found that it passed from the oldest of each generation (in their case Willas), however, Olenna was different. She wanted to pass it on to someone _capable_ by her standards. For their family, that was his sister, Margaery, who had been studying under Olenna for years in everything that _didn’t_ have to do with flower arranging. Anyone can string up a grouping of flowers and make it aesthetically pleasing enough to charge a few bucks, but it took a certain craft to pick up Olenna's empire which had very little to do with actual flowers.

Needless to say, Loras was glad he had been surpassed with the opportunity. He much rather tie some twine around a few pretty flowers that learn the finer art of the Tyrell Mafia workings. ( _Loras, it's not a mafia! It's an organization and hierarchy of business and important people who…_ )

It had been a quiet morning so far. One man came by to purchase flowers for a belated birthday of his wife. He didn't know that purple Hyacinth meant forgiveness and that had been the reason Loras suggested them; all he cared for was that the flowers were pretty and her favorite color. A young man and patron of the shop for a couple years now, Theon Greyjoy, had stopped by like he did weekly to buy a rose for his newest lover. A little girl with a gnarly scar on her face bought a sunflower for her godfather as a thank you for buying her a new book. Basically, a slow morning, but what did you expect on a Wednesday morning?

He was in the middle of his morning crossword when the crisp ring of the bell sounded. Looking up, Loras found himself tongued tied by the handsome gentleman standing in the shop. Dark hair and blue eyes, Loras' personal weakness, with a bright green shirt and... _Damn, I hope he is gay_. Loras frowned at the chances, though; the Gods had a funny way of working. _Bi or pan works too_.

Loras was about to give the Tyrell approved greeting when the man stomped over and threw a wad of bills on the counter. His hands were beautiful, adorned with gold rings with a stag emblem.

"How do I passive-aggressively say ‘fuck you’ in flower?"

Loras paused. _What?_

The man must have read the confusion on Loras' face, huffing as he explained, "My brother, the _asshole_ , is being an, an-"

"Asshole?" Loras supplied.

The man's lips quirked up in a smile and the rage that had been on his face dissolved a little bit. "Yes, an asshole. I'm having dinner there tonight- family bonding as Robert calls it but then again, he just ignores that asshole and his passive fucking remarks."

"So you want to buy him flowers," Loras surmised, confusion still coloring his tone.

The man nodded his head determinedly. "While my one brother is a bit brash and thick-skulled, my other brother-"

"The asshole," Loras felt himself grinning.

"Yes," the smile was returned and, boy, did it do things to Loras' little gay heart, "we tend to deal with our issues with symbolism."

Loras wasn't sure what to make of that but he wasn't about to say anything to a paying customer and, besides, this was much more entertaining than his normal customers. This was a challenge, this was actually interesting.

"Let me draw something up," Loras said as he pulled out a sheet of paper and a pencil. Rarely did he have to sketch out a design but if he could keep the handsome patron there for a few extra minutes then it would have been worth it.

They chatted idly as Loras' drew. The man mostly talked about his frustrations with his older brother and their disagreements on the meaning of life. At one point, he asked why Loras spent the summer locked up in a flower shop to which Loras said he didn't have anything better to do. Loras hoped he read the spark in the man's eye as an invitation of something better to do.

After a lull in the conversation, the man was suddenly leaning over the counter until his head was bowed next to Loras' over the paper. "This might be a weird request, but is there any way of adding peaches?"

Loras knocked his head up and jerked back in realizing how close the other man's face was to his. "Peaches?"

"Again," the man smiled brightly, "symbolism is a big deal."

"And peaches symbolize?" Loras found he was genuinely curious.

"That my brother should indulge himself from time to time. He'll see it as an insult regardless."

"Peaches it is," Loras grinned. He'll have to go and buy peaches but that was a small price to pay. Hell, he might not even charge the guy for the peaches. He'll symbolically indulge in more of the man's time.

Once he finished the sketch and got the approval of the man, Loras got up. "It'll take a bit for me to get everything together so you can go and come pick it up later." It wouldn't take him more than an hour or two to get everything together and the arrangement in place, but rarely did people want to wait in the shop while he worked. However-

"Can I watch?"

Loras froze in front of the case of yellow carnations and turned. "You want to watch?"

"Yeah," the man grinned brighter than the sun. "I have nothing better to do and you can walk me through it. My brother might not get the subtlety of all the flower meanings but I'd like to know."

"That's fine by me," Loras found himself agree, "but it'll be horribly boring."

The man winked. "Oh, I doubt that."

In the end, it took three hours. Well, between gathering the necessary flowers (purple and pink geraniums for stupidity, lavender foxglove for insincerity, white meadowsweet for uselessness, yellow carnations for ‘you have disappointed me’ and orange lilies for hatred), going out and buying a bag of peaches from the grocery down the street (and stopping for a coffee with the man), and actually putting the thing together (interrupted with many laughs and conversations), things took a while.

"Well, it looks nice," the man smiled brightly as he picked up the vase of colorful flowers and peaches. "I'm sure this will go over our oldest brother and all the wives’ heads."

"Your wife?" Loras asked and wondered if that sounded half as needy as he thought it did.

The man bowed his head and shook it, his whole face lit up with a smile. "No, women and I aren't necessarily _compatible_."

"What about men?" Loras blurted out.

The man's smile only grew larger (which seemed downright impossible at this point). "I have a much higher success rate there." With the vase balanced in one hand, he held out of the other for Loras. "Renly Baratheon."

Loras grasped it and shook. "Loras Tyrell." It was then it hit him what Renly's surname was. "Wait," his eyes darted toward the flower arrangement, "those aren't for the Govern-"

"No!" Renly cut him off quickly. "Robert is too absorbed to understand subtleties. No, these are for my other brother."

Loras relaxed. "Oh, good."

Renly rolled his eyes. "Like Robert would even know what flower shop to search should he find out the meaning behind the flowers, let alone why there are peaches in it."

"Well," Loras shoved his fidgeting hands into his pocket, "I hope your other brother enjoys the flowers?" He smiled confusedly. "I actually don't know what an appropriate response should be."

"Oh, he’ll hate them and it'll be fantastic. Stannis does everything like he is being forced and held at gunpoint," Renly laughed loudly at this. "He never takes the time to smell the roses.”

“Lilies,” Loras pointed at the flower in question.

Renly nodded his head in agreement. “But I'm sure his daughter will figure out the meanings of the flowers and that'll be enough for me."

Loras nodded his head once more. "Well, good luck with dinner."

Renly waved off as he turned to walk out of the store. Loras wondered if he'd ever see him again and he wasn't even out of the shop yet. Right before Renly opened the door to get out, he looked over his shoulder.

"So, tonight is destined to be dreadful, if my brothers' wives have anything to say about it, but tomorrow night doesn't have to be so bad, does it?"

Loras was confused by the line of questioning but responded anyway. "I suppose it wouldn't."

Renly smiled, eyes crinkling shut. "Then I'll pick you up at eight, you'll be off work then, right?"

Stuttering and dumbfounded, Loras nodded his head quickly. "I'll figure it out."

"Excellent."


	66. Washed Up [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: throbb- mermaid + sailor (you pick which is which!) :)

His lungs burned as he hacked up an ocean, salt water burning his throat as his lungs struggled to bring in air. Momentarily, Robb Stark thought he was still sinking to the bottom of the ocean, his legs flailing in the water and splashing, his eyes blinded by the piercing sun. He sucked in as much air as he could, praying that this breath wouldn’t be his last as he clawed as the wate- … _no… sand?_ Two firm hands pressed him down on the shoulders until his bare back hit the hot sand.

The sun was still blinding but a shadow hung over him now, half shielding him from the harsh rays. Squinting, he could see the outline of a person, salt water dripping off the ends of their long hair.

Robb tried to speak but his voice was hoarse from over-use and salt water and it came out more like a choking sound, Robb coughing up more sea water.

“Are you okay?” the figure above him asked- _male_ , Robb recognized faintly.

Robb gave a weak nodded, his head flopping back in the wet sand. He could distantly feel the water splashing against his legs, barely reaching his hips but covering from his knees down entirely. Slowly, he unclenched his fists and let the sand fall through his fingers.

“My ship,” Robb spoke roughly. “My _crew_.” Robb tried to sit up but the hands held him firmly in place, pressed hard into the sand. “Where are-”

“Gone.” The man holding him down sounded distant and cut off. Robb half wondered if there was water in his ears but then the words sunk in- his crew…gone?

“What do you-”

“The storm took them under. The ship…everyone…”

He couldn’t believe it, he didn’t _want_ to believe it. He had hired a crew in Bear Island with the intent of circumnavigating the Westeros Penisula- orders from the King. One moment he had been checking the maps with the first mate and the next he had been plunged into the ocean, torrents of waves pulling him under and then he woke up on the beach.

“How did I get here?” Robb managed a glimpse to the side to see the beach extending for miles and just on the horizon there were towering buildings and docks extending into the water. When he had checked their course they had been in the middle of open water, the closest coast being the Flint Cliffs.

“I pulled you out,” the man above him said breathlessly. “You were hanging by a piece of driftwood and washed up on shore.”

Robb nodded his head. It didn’t make sense but he didn’t have much else to go on, his mind still reeling in the information that his crew and ship was gone. He couldn’t remember anything. Maybe he had been wrong about their coordinates but one thing was clear: he was alive and it was all thanks to the guy above him.

“Thank you,” Robb spoke sincerely.

The man shook his head, droplets of water flying out for a moment. “Don’t worry about it.” He glanced over to the left where the distance city was. “That’s Pyke over there. You should be able to get help there.”

“Right.”

Slowly, the man helped Robb up into a sitting position. Now that the sun wasn’t blinding him, he was able to see more than an outline and- _wow_.

“What’s your name?” Robb blurted out. He had never seen anyone so pretty in his whole life. All the treasures and far reaches of the world he had been fortunate enough to dock at and this man on some desert beach on the coast of _Pyke_  of all places outshone them all.

The man looked hesitant. He swallowed thickly and looked out toward the water they were both still sitting in. As if he were expecting it, a moment later, thunder shook the sky in a low warning. There were no clouds but Robb could feel the air shift as a storm was coming, a neat but useful trick he picked up from his experience on the open waters.

Quickly the man turned to look at him and bit his lip in contemplation. “Theon. That’s my name.”

“Robb,” he quickly introduced. Thunder sounded again. Thankfully there was still no lightning. “We should go before the storm-”

In a flash, Theon pressed his cool lips against Robb’s, pressing himself so they were chest to chest with no air between. It only lasted half a second and he pulled back, a strange look coming over his eyes. “I got to go.”

“I know, the storm-”

Theon shook his head, a faint smile coming to his lips despite his furrowed eyebrows. Robb watched as he reached into the water and pulled out an object that fit into his palm. He pressed it against Robb’s chest and Robb shuddered at the icy touch of it.

Hand and foreign object still pressed against Robb’s chest, Theon darted his eyes towards Pyke. “It’s a day’s walk. You should get started now.” Thunder boomed for the third time, this one the loudest of them all. Theon shivered but pressed his hand more insistently against Robb. “If you ever need me, throw this in the sea. Do you understand? Chuck it as far as you can and I’ll be there.”

Robb blinked. “What? No, well, I mean, yes, but what do you mean, aren’t you-”

Once again, Robb was interrupted by cool lips against his, this time lasting more than a mere second, dragging out a bit more and Robb shuffled to try and cling back. Before he could, Theon was off of him and when Robb tried to search his face for answers, he was gone.

Twisting around, Robb tried to see where he went but, alas, the beach was bare. Flat even. There were no footprints in the sand at all. It was as if he disappeared in thin air…or-

Robb turned to the sea to see that where once had been rough, dark waves was now suddenly calm and looking like sheets of glass. Glancing down in his lap, Robb found the object Theon had pressed against him.

It was a smooth stone, unlike anything had ever seen before. It was a dark grey color, almost looking black when in the shadows and icy cold to the touch. It was thin and had a razor’s edge, cutting Robb’s skin when he grazed it.

Struggling to stand up, Robb stumbled along the water’s edge, heading towards Pyke and wondering where the hell Theon went. When the rain finally came, it was only a gentle mist, the sun not even bothering to go away for it. With the rain, clarity returned and Robb froze.

Pyke was nearly 60 leagues from where Robb had last placed the ship on his maps. No piece of driftwood could have gotten him anywhere close to land, not unless Robb had been out at sea for weeks and that was being generous. Robb touched his face, Robb found that he had the same stubble he had woke up with that morning on the ship. None of this was making any sense and Theon had saved him? Coming and going like the wind.

Robb turned to face the ocean again. No sign of the wreckage was there. Not a single piece of wood or rope. The sea was still deadly calm, highly unusual for being open water. Robb was nearly entranced with the mystic of it until something broke the water’s edge out by the horizon.

Squinting, Robb could see a great tail, nearly black and shimmering grey. Robb almost thought it was a great fish or a shark of some sort until it disappeared and a single hand rose from the water and _waved_?

It disappeared just as quickly and in the same instant the rain let up, leaving Robb to dry in the heat of the sun. His whole body warmed almost instantaneously, save for his hand still clenched around the icy stone.

Daring one more peek out to sea, Robb found nothing but looking down at the stone in his hands and hearing Theon’s last words circling in his head made him wonder if Old Nan’s tales about the people of the sea weren’t just stories to put children to rest.


	67. Run and Hide [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: I don't know where this came from but as a prompt could you do Theon escaping from Ramsay and running into Robb who hides him from Ramsay and his men in a modern au

"Are you okay?" A strong hand came to rest on Theon's shoulder.

Theon jolted back on the barstool, nearly knocking himself onto the floor as he looked up at the bartender with red hair and a furrowed expression. 

"I'm fine," Theon bit out as harshly as he could but rather than a bite it came out nearly a whimper. "I'm fine," he repeated in a much stronger voice to convince both himself and the bartender as he forced his eyes not to look at the door at the other side of the room where he had been previously staring.

Unfortunately, neither the bartender nor Theon was convinced with his mediocre performance. "I've been trying to ask what your order is for the past five minutes."

_Oh...shit._  "Sorry," Theon dragged a shaky hand through his hair hoping he didn't sound as wrecked as he felt.

The look on the bartender's eyes told him that he was once again unsuccessful in appearing whole and normal. "Are you sure you are okay? Did something happen?" Theon barely even noticed his eyes drifting toward the door again before it was too late and the bartender's eyes gleamed with knowing. "Oh, shit, did you get stood up?" He seemed to realize his wording and cursed softly. "I didn't mean that; I mean-"

"I'm not waiting for anyone," Theon muttered quietly. Rather he was waiting out someone...or hiding. But that was semantics.

The bartender looked confused but someone waved him down at the other end so he threw Theon an awkward smile and rushed back to his job, leaving Theon to worry over his rapidly beating heart.

It had been two days, three hours, and- Theon looked up at the clock by the door and squinted -forty-eight minutes since he had made a break for it, slipping into the bathroom of the gas station _they_ had stopped at and climbed through the window. Admittedly, he was amazed he had even gotten this far. He was twenty-seven miles from the gas station and hoped that he picked a bar that was inconspicuous enough for _them_ not to notice but not too inconspicuous enough for _them_ not to view it as suspicious. _Wintertown_ was a nice mix of the two and its hours were pretty late allowing Theon to sit there for as long as he could before he ran to his next location. If he kept up his current pace, he’d make it to Seagard’s port in two months which is better than his old record of _fucking never_.

“So,” the bartender was back and looking awkward as fuck and Theon half-wondered if he was him; if he was the cause of it. He wouldn’t be surprised. He was having a shit time blending in, the reason he had to run from the convenience store three blocks away. “I hate to be _that guy_ but you kind of need to order something in order to sit here.”

He didn’t have money. He didn’t have _anything_. No money, no phone, no change of clothes, barely an identity and half the days he barely remembered who he really was anyway. He’d been getting by purely off the limited kindness of others (were northerners always so trusting?) and stealing. What was one more unpaid for beverage?

“Have orange juice?” Theon finally said, not willing to meet the bartender’s eyes.

“A screwdriver?” the bartender supplied but Theon furiously shook his head.

“No, just…juice.” Theon buried his face in his hands. “I don’t drink anymore.” He needed a clear and level head. Bring high and drunk out of his mind put him in this goddamn situation eight months ago. It’s what _kept_ him there for all eight months.

The bartender silently nodded his head, suspicion pinging in his eyes but he said nothing as he found a glass and poured the drink. He came back, set it in front of Theon before resting his own elbows on the hard wood of the bar and stared at Theon.

“Are you hiding from someone?”

Theon jolted again and tried not to shake. “No.”

“I don’t believe you,” the bartender countered swiftly. “You’ve been here for nearly an hour, haven’t ordered anything until now and you keep staring at the door, jumping every time it opens. If someone is harassing you, I can call-”

“ _No_ ,” Theon yelped and bit his lip hard as his admission. “I mean, I’m fine. You’re wrong, I’m fine.” His eyes began to prickle and Theon almost laughed. _Great, I’m going to fucking cry now._

The bartender was insistent. “My brother is a cop and he can help. Jon’s a good guy and-”

_Ramsay_ was supposed to be a “good guy”. _Ramsay_ was supposed to be a cop and he was supposed to help.

“I should go.” Theon stood, leaving his drink untouched as he looked at the clock again. Two days and nearly four hours.

“Wait,” the bartender scurried to follow but Theon barely heard it as his eyes caught a glimpse outside the bar window. A group of six were climbing out of a car, men of vague resemblance to Theon’s fears. However, Theon was focused on the one getting out of the passenger’s seat, smiling like the devil and- _shit_ _._

Theon froze, blocked in. The bar was small, to begin with, and the bathroom had no windows. This was a one door establishment and his only exit was blocked in and-

“Are those the guys following you?” the bartender’s hand was once again on Theon’s shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Theon didn’t speak but the bartender got the message and yanked Theon behind the bar and promptly pushed him to the ground as the bell chimed and the door opened. Theon barely even caught what was happening as the bartender greeted the new customers with a cheerful voice. Not until-

 “Have you seen him around here?”

Theon didn’t need to see the man to know it was _him_. Daring a glance up, Theon could see the bartender’s face being shined with a bright light from a phone in his face, a hand holding it extending out of view over the counter.

“Nope,” the bartender shrugged, leaning on the counter and shielding Theon if anyone dared to look over the bar. “Friend of yours?”

“A dear one.” The voice made his skin crawl. “You’ll call me if you see him, Stark? He’s not from around here and might get lost all alone.”

“No problem, Snow,” the bartender, Stark, said coolly.

A humorless chuckle followed. “It’s Bolton, now.”

“Sure thing,” the bartender nodded his head. He didn’t dare a glance down at Theon, keep his blue eyes locked on the man before him. “See you around.”

There was a grunt and, a few minutes later, the bell chimed and the door opened and closed with a sharp click.

In record time, Stark, the bartender was on his knees in front of Theon. “That was them, right?”

Theon could only offer a weak nodded at his savior.

The bartender’s face darkened. “They’ll be sniffing around town for a while. You can stay here if you’d prefer.”

Theon blinked at the kindness offered to him. He knew it’d be stupid for him to agree, especially since _he_ had been kind before all that shit had happened. But Theon found himself nodding once again as the bartender handed him the orange juice from before.

“On the house,” the bartender smiled softly. “I’m Robb.”

“Theon,” he paused for a moment before daring a look up again, “can I borrow your phone?”

Robb, the bartender, Stark’s eyes widened and he quickly fumbled around his pocket until he thrust a phone under Theon’s nose. “No problem.”

Juice cradled in one hand and phone in the other, Theon remained seated on the floor behind the bar. Robb didn’t seem to mind as he worked around Theon, smiling and talking as if he wasn’t hiding by his legs. Theon quickly dialed Asha’s number, a number he had repeated in his mind over and over for nearly eight months, and didn’t mutter his ‘thanks’ until he heard the dial tone.


	68. Hiding Out [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> randomlut: Can i ask more of this? Like maybe prequel with Ramsay if you feel dark and sadistic (eh?) Or more fluffy stuff of Rob trying to helps Theon calm down. Please?
> 
> Sequel to Run and Hide.

The next five hours went by like a blur as Theon watching the bartender, Robb, fly from customer to customer without even hinting that someone was crouched down and hiding behind the bar by his legs. It was mesmerizing, in a way, watching him work. It was almost out of body, enough so that Theon forgot the relief in his sister’s voice, Asha sounding almost close to tears; enough so that Theon barely registered that she was coming to get him in the morning to take him home, that she was taking the first ferry out of Pyke and driving up to get him; enough so that Theon didn’t even contemplate what the hell he was going to be doing in the meantime.

Enough so, that Theon didn’t even notice the bar was empty until the bartender kneeled down in front of him, jacket in one hand and keys in the other. “I’m closing up,” he said, jiggling the keys as an explanation. “You get a hold of someone?”

My sister,” Theon explained clipped and briefly.

Silence consumed them for a full minute before the bartender nodded to his hands. “My phone, please?” Theon had forgotten he was even holding the damn thing and in such a tight, sweaty grip. After wiping it against his jeans, he passed it over, the bartender pocketing it and offering Theon a hand up.  “How far off does your sister live? Is she coming to pick you up or do you need a lift?”

“She’s coming to pick me up,” Theon said quickly. Robb Stark, the bartender, had already done enough for Theon. Taking anymore out be selfish and unwise. Never mind the fact that Asha wouldn’t be around until midday tomorrow and he didn’t have a place to go.

“I’ll wait with you,” he offered kindly, smiling brightly. “I only live a few blocks away so-”

“I’m okay,” Theon bit off hostilely, which immediately flooded his chest with guilt and embarrassment.

“When is she coming?” Robb furrowed his brows together in concern. “I’d feel bad leaving you all alone with Ramsay still stalking around.”

Theon had almost forgotten the fact that Ramsay could very well be swimming around, circling in on his location, even if Robb had shaken him off. Theon felt so close to salvation, only a day away from being safe with his sister, yet the dark thought of Ramsay finding him in these last 24 hours scared him to his core.

“It’s going to be a while,” Theon murmured, curling in one himself before the tremors of fear could wrack his body.

Robb seemed to understand the implication. “You can stay with me until she shows up. Like I said before, my brother is a cop and Snow wouldn’t know where to find you and she can come pick you up right from our apartment.”

Theon shook his head, his fingernails digging into his forearms. He made the mistake once going home with a stranger and he didn’t end up leaving that house for eight months. Even if Asha was coming and even if the bartender had good intentions, he couldn’t risk it. Not again.

Again, the bartender seemed to understand more than Theon was actually saying and Theon wondered how he could be read so easily. “If you want, you can call your sister from the apartment- hell, even the moped, although I wouldn’t recommend that – and she can talk to me and Jon to make sure it is all okay. I really don’t feel right leaving you by yourself but if you insist,” he pulled out a wallet as he spoke, “I can give you some money for a hotel for the night. I can’t let you sleep on the streets and-”

Theon held up his shaking hands to get the man to stop talking. “If Asha thinks it is safe, then I’ll come with you.”

Theon didn’t know how he could think this guy wasn’t anything like Ramsay, especially with that heart-shattering smile. “Is she the last person you called?”

“Yes,” Theon murmured weakly, a shiver coming through his body.

“Right,” the bartender dialed the phone and in the same motion handed Theon his jacket. “Wear this, it is chilly outside.”

Theon numbly took the jacket as he watched the bartender stand up and pace. Theon scrutinized him talking to Asha but the words didn’t register in his mind, not as much as the confident expression on his face and the faint smile he threw at Theon every now and then. He couldn’t believe someone good was out there after eight months of seeing anything but that. Wrapping the jacket around his shoulders, Theon breathed in deeply, letting the faint smell of pinewood and dog hair settle over him.

A few minutes later, Robb was kneeling before you again with the phone extended. “Your sister wants to double check with you. Come to the front when you are done.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Theon’s talk with Asha was short, and he reassured her that the guy was decent and that if he didn’t contact her in an hour with his location that she should alert the authorities. After one last briefing of how to break an attacker’s nose, Asha finally let him go.

Theon stood up to see the rest of the bar dark and empty. Robb Stark the bartender was nowhere in sight. Carefully, Theon approached the front door and peeked out to see the redhead standing there with a small paper bag in his hands. Theon slipped out and eyed the bag suspiciously.

“Here,” Robb passed over the bag, not even bothering to ask for his phone back as he locked up the building. “It’s for you.”

Cautiously, Theon peeked into the bag to see an apple,a cookie, and a bottle of water. Glancing down the street, Theon could see the only store open was a poorly lit gas station.

“Ready?” Robb asked him.

Overwhelmed with the man’s kindness, Theon was at a loss for words and dazedly nodded his head. Robb led him to a dinky yellow moped and passed the single white helmet to Theon. Once the helmet was safely secured, Theon clambered onto the back of the scooter and carefully wrapped an arm around the bartender, the paper bad clenched tightly in the other hand.

True to his word, Robb’s apartment was only a three-minute drive away. Theon sent a quick text to his sister with the address, a picture of the apartment door and number and a short description of the scooter and its plate number. Robb didn’t bother questioning it, using a small flashlight to help illuminate the number so Theon’s pictures had as much clarity as possible. Theon was still beyond words.

They trekked up the apartment stairs in silence and Robb opened the door for him. The apartment itself was dark and faint snoring could be heard.

“My brother,” Robb explained in a low voice and Theon felt a little more tension release from his shoulders as another fact was confirmed.

Turning on a lamp, Theon was granted a view of the small living room of the apartment, complete with a ratty brown couch, a scratched up coffee table and a tiny little TV on a bookshelf filled with books. Robb went to a closet to the side and pulled out a thick blanket and a pillow.

“You can take your pick of the couch or my room,” he explained as he set the bedding on the couch. “I don’t mind either.”

“I’ll take the couch,” Theon quickly said. The bartender had already done so much for him and he didn’t want to put him out any further. Plus the implication and intimacy of a stranger’s bedroom stirred some unwanted memories of eight months locked away. “Besides, I doubt I can sleep.”

Robb nodded in understanding. “You can keep my phone until your sister comes.”

Theon could feel the ‘good night’ coming and he was suddenly hit with the idea that he didn’t want the bartender to leave him in the living room alone. He felt safe with him and it was almost a strangling feeling to think he’d be left alone again, even if he was just down the hall and Ramsay was somewhere far away.

Again, and Theon couldn’t even fathom how he was doing this, Robb seemed to read his thoughts and sat on one side of the couch. “I’m not that tired.”

It was selfish, but Theon didn’t bother even trying to tell him it was okay to leave. He simply flopped onto the couch, still leaving a decent gap between them. He alright felt his stomach settling and it being easier to breathe with Robb in the room with him.

They turned the TV on, letting it play some old movie on mute as they sat in silence. For the first time in a long time, Theon felt safe. Relief hit him harder than he thought as tears stung at his eyes. Wiping them away harshly, Robb must have caught him and scooted closer. There was still a foot between them but Robb settled a firm and comforting hand on Theon’s shoulder and Theon crumbled, any remaining wall he had up came tumbling down as he buried his face into his hands.

Robb’s hand drifted over his shoulders and pulled Theon lightly, enough that Theon could resist it until Theon was pulled against him. Theon didn’t fight it, letting himself be dragged and settling into the loose and warm embrace, counting the seconds until Asha came, both excited to see his sister and be free from his fear but oddly disappointed that he would also be leaving Robb behind.

But he tried not to think about that now. Not wrapped up in Robb’s jacket and embrace, a warm comfort blanketing over him as his tears slowed and sleep tugged on his eyes. And even as he fell asleep for the first time in what felt like months, Robb never let him go.


	69. Bilingual [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: I really like the Greek!Greyjoys thing, so how about one where Theon and another ironborn (your choice) are talking in Greek while Robb is nearby, Theon mentions that he thinks Robb is attractive, and then Robb says that he speaks fluent Greek and understood every word they said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For clarity sake, when they are speaking in Greek, it’ll be in italics)

_“So,”_ Dagmer prompted loudly and boldly using his native tongue, _“you think our waiter is attractive, yes?”_

Theon choked on his coffee, immediately going red in the face. _This_ was not a conversation he wanted to have, especially with his broken Greek, especially _in front_ of the person in question, all because his godfather recently found out his interest lied in both women _and_ men. It didn’t matter if the waiter could understand them or not, it was still embarrassing as hell.

Rather than answering the question posed by the grinning Greek man, Theon fired his own, _“Do you and Asha have nothing better to talk about than me?”_ Sure, his Greek was rough from lack of practice, but the snark was still apparent.

Dagmer smirked over his frappe. _“If we didn’t, I’d know nothing of my godson since you never call.”_ Theon rolled his eyes, catching a glimpse of the waiter in the motion and Dagmer was smirking even wider now. _“Do you want me to ask him out for you? I can be your…what’s the English word for it?”_ Dagmer frowned for a moment before the word came to mind. _“Oh, yes._ Wingman. _I’ll be your_ wingman! _”_

Theon set down the empty ceramic mug heavily. _“Oh, gods please don’t.”_

_“Asha tells me that you haven’t had a relationship since-”_

_“ **I** haven’t had a relationship?”_ Theon snorted. _“Asha has barely **ever** had a serious relationship. Maybe you should be her _ wingman. _”_

Dagmer ignored the comment about Asha as he turns his attention to the approaching waiter. _“I think he’d say yes. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t tell your father.”_ The winking, no matter how much Dagmer thought it was, wasn’t helping at all.

_“You don’t even speak English,”_ Theon reminded, ever thankful that Dagmer only knew a handful of words and two phrases in English: Where is the bathroom? and Are you single?

_“How hard can it be?”_ Dagmer waved him off, finishing his frappe, still wrinkling his nose because it didn’t hold up to the Greek freddo cappuccinos he drank five times a day back home.

“Would you two like anything else today?” the waiter, a cute red head and totally _not_ the reason Theon dragged his godfather to his particular coffee shop on the other side of town, asked. Theon just happened to like The Rose And The Wolf and the cute lesbian couple that owned it. They made delicious cherry crumb cakes and that was the _only_ reason.

“We are good,” Theon swapped to English seamlessly. “We’ll take the check now.” Theon glared at his godfather and switched back to Greek, _“You better be paying for this and treating me.”_ The waiter handed the receipt to Theon and Theon once again went back to English to mutter a quiet, “Thanks.”

His godfather gave him a helpless shrug, _“I only carry euros. Sorry. Maybe instead of change, you can ask for his number.”_ Theon only shot his godfather an even more threatening glare.

Cursing in both English and Greek (at this point, he was losing track of which one he was supposed to be speaking and he was getting a little dizzy with the swapping), Theon dug for his wallet and groaned in finding only large bills. Finding the smallest of the bunch, a twenty, he handed it to the waiter.

“Sorry, I don’t have anything smaller,” Theon apologized, his English tinged with a bit of a Greek accent at this point and finding himself embarrassed because of it and his flustered-ness.

_“It’s no problem; I’ll be back with your change in a second.”_

Dagmer burst out into laughter and it took Theon five seconds too long to realize why. As he snapped his head around, the waiter was already behind the cash register with a dorky little smirk on his face.

Awe-struck, Theon began to ask, _“Did he just-”_ before snapping his mouth shut and mortification settled in because the waiter _had understood everything they had, quite loudly, said._

_“He sounds more authentic than you!”_ Dagmer cackled loudly, giving the redhead across the room a compliment.

Theon didn’t answer, already standing up and making his way to the register because goddamnit, he had to explain himself and apologize again.

The waiter was waiting for him at the counter, change in one hand and the other drumming against the granite.

“You, uh, understood everything then?” Theon asked, forgoing any pretense of the waiter not catching Theon and his godfather talking about it.

_“Yes,”_ the waiter nodded with a tiny smile. _“I’ve been studying Greek for four years for my Ph.D.”_

He really did sound authentic. If Theon had met him in Greece, he would have thought it was his native language. Theon was almost jealous. Theon’s first language had been Greek and, according to his father and uncles, he sounded like the “mountain hicks” when he spoke. It wasn’t necessarily his fault that the American school system beat the language out of him and the only people he had around to practice with weren’t exactly people he _wanted_ to have a conversation with. Usually, conversations with his father and brothers ended horribly and Asha was gone more times than not.

“Sorry,” Theon muttered, feeling too uncomfortable to speak in his native tongue anymore. “I didn’t think you could hear.”

“Right,” the waiter nodded, handing over his change. “Don’t worry about it.” the waiter shrugged off in English before quietly adding in Greek, _“I think you’re cute too.”_

Again, the swapping of languages took Theon a few seconds too long to catch what had actually been said.

Suddenly feeling a lot more confident, Theon leaned against the counter. “Really?”

This time, the waiter was blushing. _“Yes. I’ve been looking for someone to practice with too. Are you free Friday?”_

“For practice?” Theon asked, still avoiding Greek as a whole.

“And dinner,” the waiter added, now in English.

Theon grinned widely, speaking as smoothly as he could in his native language, _“It’s a date. I’m Theon.”_

The waiter smiled, “Robb.”


	70. Kisses [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: I absolutely LOVE those fluffy throbb headcanons, especially the one about theon and how much he loves kissing robb. Can you please write a fic based off of that? It would be so cute and so lovely and I need more fluff in my life. also you're an amazing writer and i love reading your stories

Robb watched Theon strip on the other side of the bedroom. He had come home late from work, dark circle underneath his eyes and tired yawns filling the silence of the room. He barely paid Robb two words as he crawled into his side of the bed, pulling the blankets with him as he settled onto his side and looked over at Robb with hooded eyes.

With a lopsided and lazy smile, Theon pushed himself up until his face was inches away from Robb’s. Shifting to the left just slightly, Theon dragged his lips against Robb’s temple in a lazy kiss before half collapsing on Robb and the bed.

“That tired?” Robb teased.

He received a grunt and a nuzzle on his shoulder.

Leaning down, Robb press a light kiss to the top of Theon’s head before settling an arm around his waist and closing his eyes as well.

* * *

“Goddamnit!” Robb tossed the controller on the table. “How many times is that?”

“Twelve,” Theon smirked beside him, picking up Robb’s hand. “I told you it was hard, but, _no,_ you didn’t believe me.”

“Well, you suck at this game, to begin with,” Robb grumbled, trying to hold back his smile as Theon pressed a light kiss to his knuckle. “This isn’t even the boss battle! How do they expect kids to beat this?”

Theon moved his lips to the next knuckle and spoke against it. “Who says the kids aren’t beating this? Maybe we just suck.”

“No,” Robb’s eyebrows pinched together as Theon kissed the third knuckle. “I doubt Rickon could beat this.”

“Invite him over,” Theon challenged as he pressed a fuller kiss to the back of Robb’s hand before releasing it and grabbing the controller. “I just want to get to the next part.”

Robb rolled his eyes, leaning his head against Theon’s shoulder as his boyfriend started the battle over again.

* * *

“We aren’t going to fit,” Jon ground out for the fourth time.

“Your pessimism is getting us nowhere, as usual,” Theon spat with a glower. This earned a kick from Arya.

“How about we try Jon and Bran in the front; Arya, Robb, and me in the back; and Rickon in the truck,” Sansa suggested, eyeing the tiny car suspiciously.

“Okay!” Rickon yelped as he threw himself at the truck, pushing aside all the bags that had been neatly organized two minutes earlier.

“What about me?” Theon hissed.

Sansa realized her mistake and flushed but Robb was already on it. “Arya, Sansa, and Theon in the back.”

“What about you?” Arya pouted, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

“Just do it,” Robb insisted, already helping Bran into the front seat while Jon secured his chair on the top of the chair.

Sansa took the middle and Theon left his door open and wondered where the hell Robb was going to shove himself. Not even two seconds after their seat belts were secured; Robb was in the car, seated happily on Theon’s lap with his legs draped over his sisters.

“Are we ready?” Jon groaned.

“Yup!” Robb exclaimed cheerily as Arya shoved his legs off of her. Robb tucked his knees to his chest and Theon shook his head in amusement and dismay.

“Idiot,” Theon pressed a kiss to Robb’s knee that was up against his chest, “you’re going to get uncomfortable in five minutes.”

“I am not pulling over,” Jon glared from the rear view mirror. “We are already late.”

Theon pressed another kiss to Robb’s knee for good luck.

* * *

“What are you making?” Theon wrinkled his nose as he came up behind Robb.

“It’s soup,” Robb frowned, turning to look at Theon. “Does it smell bad or something?”

Smirking, Theon ducked his head and kissed Robb’s shoulder. “I’ll order pizza.”

 “Wait!” Robb turned as Theon left him standing in the kitchen. “Is it that bad?”

* * *

Robb awoke to a warm breath ghosting over his neck. Cracking his eyes open, Robb glanced down to see Theon snoring softly. With a quick look at the clock to see the late hour, Robb tugged a strand of Theon’s hair.

“Wake up,” he urged. “You got work.”

Theon nuzzled deeper into Robb’s neck. “Five more minutes.”

“You’re going to be late,” Robb warned.

Theon was silent for a long moment. Robb was about to nudge him once more before he felt a soft kiss to the hollow of his throat.

Sighing, Robb settled back into the bed and combed his fingers through Theon’s tangled hair. “Fine, five more minutes.”

* * *

“No!” Robb wrapped his arm around Theon’s waist, anchoring him into place. They were snuggling and even if Theon was only getting up for a glass of water, it was going to ruin their formation.

“I’m thirty,” Theon whined, pulling Robb’s arms away and pinning them into the sofa. “Stay, okay?”

Robb tried his best pout but all he received was a quick kiss on the nose and Theon _ruining_ their formation.

“Asshole!”

* * *

Quick as lightning, Robb watched Theon race into the kitchen, his tie haphazardly thrown around his neck.

“Late, again?” Robb mused over his cup of coffee.

Theon didn’t even answer, grabbing a piece of toast and bacon of Robb’s plate and giving him a quick smear of his lips against Robb’s cheek. Robb was still stunned Theon had enough frame of mind to even attempt a kiss on his rush out the door.

* * *

“Shut the hell up,” Theon growled, pushing Robb further into the carpet. “I’m not.”

Robb grinned up at Theon who towered over him, his chest rising dramatically after their little wrestling match to the floor. “You’re a sentimental loser.”

Theon gave one more shove and sat up and away from Robb. “Ass.”

Robb sat up and wrapped his arms around Theon’s neck, pressing his chest to his back. “You love me.”

Theon grabbed Robb’s arm and kissed the underneath of his wrist. “Shut up.”

* * *

Robb whimpered as Theon released him, jutting his hips up to regain what he had lost.

“Shhh,” Theon whispered, holding Robb’s bucking hips down with his hands. “Patience.”

Robb growled but waited as Theon took his sweet time pressing kisses on his thigh, trailing up to nip at his hip and leaving a mess of marks up his chest until he finally reached his lips.

* * *

Robb gasped, grinning wildly at Theon. “You said it!”

“You are such a loser,” Theon pushed Robb on the forehead.

“Say it again,” Robb dared, pulling Theon’s arm aside and dragging him closer. “Please?”

“I swear if you tell-”

“I won’t tell Jon,” Robb promised.

“I was talking about Sansa,” Theon deadpanned but rolled his eyes regardless. “I love you, happy?”

Robb didn’t even get to answer as Theon kissed his lips firmly to shut him up.


	71. Thank You [Theon + Asha + Robb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Hi, im the anon from the grey wind headcanon and i just wanna say that damn, that savior robb drabble was perfect, its my favorite trope, i was wondering if u could maaaybe, when you have time, make one like that but when they are kids? maybe Ramsay shoves Theon and calls him names when they're in kindergarden and Robb gets so mad bc theon is his awesome bff so he punches him in the face and Theon gets mad at him bc he (robb) got punched too but next day he makes a draw of robb to thank him?

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Asha asked, eyebrows pinched in confusion and a snarl coming to her lips as she looked up at the two-story house. Even at ten (and three months and fourteen days), Asha was already beginning to perfect her father’s scowl.

Beside her, her six-year-old brother nodded his head shyly, tugging at the collar of his loose hanging shirt.

Asha looked back up at the massive house and wondered why Theon was even interacting with these kinds of people, let alone how he knew where they lived. Normally, Asha would have outright refused to take Theon here, _especially_ for what he wanted to do, but their father was drunk and Asha knew it was best to stay out of his way until he passed out and if “out of his way” meant taking a forty minute bus ride to the north part of town and sneak into the gated community then _fine,_ whatever.

“I swear if this isn't the right house,” Asha muttered as she boldly led the way up the cobblestone driveway. Theon followed close behind, looking around with awe and amazement. There was a reason their father never liked them going up this way. He didn’t want them getting any ideas on how those monthly checks from the state could be spent. Not when it was his booze money.

When they climbed up the porch and stood before the massive oak door, Asha, for the first time in her life, hesitated. She wasn’t sure she wanted to open up the can of worms that involved interacting with the people from inside. She also wasn’t sure she wanted Theon pursuing this any longer. Unfortunately, it had been three days since the _incident_ and he was still not letting up about it. He said this whole thing was to make them even but Asha knew that look in her brother’s eye. It was the same look when Mother was around or when Asha let Theon hang out with her and her friends.

Sighing loudly, Asha reached for the bell and waited patiently as it echoed through the massive house. Dogs erupted from the other side and Theon flinched at the noise and took a step to stand more behind her.

A few seconds passed and they both heard a deep voice silence the dogs before opening the door. The man with a long face, dark hair, and grey eyes opened the door and looked down at the two of them. His expression was cold but his eyes scanned each of them up and down.

Asha crossed her arms defensively, copying her father’s deadly glare as she spoke. “Are you Mr. Stark?”

The man turned his focus on Asha although she noticed his eyes dart to Theon every now and then. She moved slightly to stand more in front of him.

“I am, and you are?”

“Asha,” she kept short. “This is my brother Theon.”

Judging by the way his eyes widened slightly, he had heard the name before. “You’re Robb’s friend.”

Asha raised her eyebrows at the word “friend” and turned to look at Theon who looked uncomfortable with the title. Asha turned back to the adult. “Is he here? I want to talk to him.”

Mr. Stark’s left eyebrow cocked and he tilted his head. “Unfortunately, Robb is grounded.”

“It’ll only take a second and then we have to go home.” Asha remained unmoving as she held his glare, ignoring the tug on the back of her shirt from Theon trying to urge her to leave. No, they had spent nearly an hour to get here and they were going to see this through.

Mr. Stark stared at Asha for a second longer before nodding his head shortly. “Okay, come inside.”

He opened the door wider to let them in but Asha held Theon in place with an outstretched arm.

“We’ll wait here.”

Mr. Stark nodded his head once more and closed the door behind him. Once it was secured, Asha turned to Theon and put both hands on his shoulders. “I didn’t know he was your friend.”

“He’s not,” Theon muttered, looking at his torn up sneakers. “He’s just nice.”

“Hmm,” Asha hummed but turned back to the door as it opened again. This time, Mr. Stark was accompanied by a little boy roughly Theon’s age with red hair and blue eyes that lit up upon seeing Theon.

“Make it quick then come back inside,” the boy’s father warned before leaving the three of them be.

Unlike Mr. Stark, Asha stayed right there as the two boys avoided looking at each other. She did move aside so they were facing each other directly.

“Are you okay?” the red-haired boy asked.

Theon dared a look up, glancing at Asha before looking him. “I’m fine.” With a quickness only one learned from dodging thrown objects, Theon produced a folded sheet of paper and held it out for Robb, looking at the top of the closed door inside of the boy.

Asha watched as Robb took it gingerly and unfolded it. His eyes widened and a grin rushed to his face. “Is that The Flash? Barry Allen’s Flash?”

Theon nodded his head slowly.

“ _Wow_ ,” Robb marveled. “That’s so _cool!_ You got the lightning and everything!” Robb looked up from the paper. “You’re really good!”

Asha watched as he brother stuttered over his words. “R-Really?”

“The Flash is my _favorite_ superhero!” Robb exclaimed. “You even got his suit perfect.”

“I used all of my red and yellow pencils for it.”

The kid’s eyes grew impossibly wider with awe. “Really?”  Theon nodded his head quickly. “Can I keep this?” Robb asked, clutching the paper like it would be taken from him.

Asha nearly rolled her eyes. “It’s for you,” Theon muttered. “Because of the other day…with Ramsay.”

“Oh,” the boy looked at the picture before looking up at Theon again, “it was nothing. You didn't have to do this.”

That’s where Asha disagreed. According to what Theon had told her, some brat with the last name Bolton had been harassing Theon since the start of school and then the little Stark boy punched him straight in the face. Asha had been impressed by the little six-year-old, even if Theon should be able to handle his own shit. Then again, it was nice knowing someone was looking out for Theon when she couldn’t. From what she gathered, Bolton was still keeping his distance or else Asha might have to get a few of _her_ friends involved.

“Well he did,” Asha cut in because this was dragging on now.

Robb looked at Asha for the first time and then back to Theon. “Well, thank you.” Carefully, he folded up the piece of paper and hugged it to his chest. “Do you want to hang out with me and Jon next time we have recess?”

Theon froze, his eyes darted to Asha but she pretended she didn’t hear and found interest in the sky. She didn’t look at Theon whispered a quick “sure” and the two exchanged goodbyes. She didn’t tease him about his dorky little grin because she was hiding the small smile that touched her lips for a moment.

“Come on,” Asha urged as Robb closed the door. “Let’s go home.”

Theon silently followed and Asha didn’t say a word about it. She didn’t ask him about the other boy, she didn’t tease him about the drawing or his new friend, and she didn’t say anything about their afternoon.

She just snuck him onto the city bus so they didn’t have to walk home or pay.  She helped him creep into the house and past their sleeping father. She left him in his room and went to hers, but not without finding one red and one yellow colored pencil and rolling them under Theon’s door.


	72. The Band [Throbb + Jon/Ygritte]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: i don't know if this is a head canon thing or a prompt but all i've been able to think about today is a throbb au where Robb Stark is the lead singer in a rock band (prompted by the arctic monkeys song that's featured in his game of thrones spotify playlist) so…

"So, in four days we'll be in King's Landing. We'll have to immediately go into our first sound check but afterwards, we should have time to see your sister," Theon murmured aloud as he scanned the calendar on his lap and checked his phone for dates. "I need to see when we can get you guys that photo op. Varys has been emailing me back and forth all month but _apparently_ Cersei Lannister has come forward with another sex scandal. Twenty years since Robert's Rebellion broke up and she still is dictating the music news. Un _fucking_ believable. You know what? I'm going to call Varys and get this shit sorted out-" Theon made a move to stand up but Robb pulled him back on the sofa they were sharing. 

"You have four days to figure it out," Robb grinned from beside him where he had been tuning his guitar. Across the aisle of the bus, Jon was doing the same with his bass.

"I have to make calls, schedule with the local operators and make sure everything is in order, that takes time," Theon huffed, not even sparing a glance over at Robb but instead looking up at Jon with a glare as the bus shook from hitting another pothole. "Tell your girlfriend to drive the bus smoother."

"I can hear you!" Ygritte yelled from the front and accompanied that with a series of honks.

Theon ignored her in favor of turning back to his phone. "Oh, and Snow?" Robb already knew what was going to happen and sent Jon a quick look of sympathy as Theon said, "You have a CD signing the morning after we come in."

"The morning after our first sound check?" Jon hissed.

"I heard it is in the same neighborhood as a local middle school too," Theon hummed. "A nice coffee shop. I even said you might do a few songs. You know, draw in the local crowds. Gets some publicity after the whole Twitter fuck-up from last week."

Ygritte was cackling from the driver's seat while Jon looked pissed and slightly embarrassed at the mention of the latest Twitter scandal Jon has managed to acquire (thanks to Ygritte of course but no one except those on the bus knew that). "Please stop doing scheduling me those."

Theon tossed his phone on his lap and pressed a hand against his chest. "But it is for the good of the band, right babe?" Theon didn't even wait for Robb to speak. "We divide the talents. Robb is our front man so he gets the TV and radio spots." Theon leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knee. "Maybe if you were better on camera you two could share that job but we can't have another Milk Incident," Theon smirked as Jon went red. "Besides, little girls love your pout. It's a trend, check Instagram."

“It’s my favorite tag!” Ygritte hummed from the front seat.

Jon fell completely silent, standing up and crossing the bus toward the front. He turned around to give Theon one last glare before closing the separation curtain. Theon didn't even wait for it to be completely closed before bursting into laughter.

Robb gave him a reprimanding look. "You didn't really book that, did you? He’s still upset about the amusement park photos that _someone_ leaked."

"I told you already, I didn’t do that,” Theon hissed before adding, “I may have missed some of the details," Theon shrugged with a smirk. "It's the cafe that Night’s Watch used to play at before they got their break. He should be thanking me." An easy smile came to Robb's face but Theon wasn't done. "I didn't lie about the middle school, though. I heard it is an all girls’ school too."

Rolling his eyes, Robb kissed his cheek. "So we get the morning together?"

Theon raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry; this is Manager Greyjoy you are talking to, not your fucking fiancé. No, you have a radio show. Have fun, it's a pop station that plays _Taking The Black_ a thousand times a day."

"That's Jon's song," Robb deadpanned.

"I know. Oh, it's also from six to nine. I'll bring you a donut."

"Six?" Robb groaned. "Why do you hate me?"

"Because I'm good at my job," Theon let a small smile come to his face. "I did manage to give you and your fiancé a three-hour lunch before practice, though."

Robb chuckled and kissed Theon’s cheek again, "Fucking sap."


	73. Ink [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: a prompt with Artist!Theon?? *puppy-dog-eyes* (doesn't have to be a pairing but if so def throbb <3)

When Theon climbed into bed without so much as a look in Robb’s general direction, Robb knew it is one of _Those Days_. Robb isn’t sure what exactly happens when _Those Days_ struck- sometimes it is obvious like his father calling (and those never ended well) and other days it just comes out of nowhere in the middle of a seemingly pleasant afternoon -but Robb had become an expert over the years of identifying when Theon was enveloped in one of _Those Days._

None of the other Starks could tell when _Those Days_ happened. Sansa and Bran were pretty good at catching them but Robb knew best. Even Theon’s sister had difficulty knowing when Theon’s smile was real or not. Robb knew for the most part and if he didn’t, by the end of the day he could usually figure it out or Theon would finally come back to him, walls down and let him know in his little Theon sort of way (usually a bone crushing hug and a deep sign, face buried in Robb’s chest).

As Theon settled his back against the headboard of the bed, eyes staring wide and unblinking at the ceiling, Robb sat up and reached over the side of the bed where a little basket of object rested. Over the years, Robb and Theon had developed some things to help pull Theon from the thoughts that drowned him. Sometimes they worked, sometimes they didn’t but Robb always tried. He didn’t like seeing him this way, Theon staring at nothing, a whirlwind of turmoil and bad decisions hitting him from all angles even though those memories were from long ago.

Gently, Robb pressed the object he grabbed from the basket under the bed into Theon’s hand. Most of the time, Theon was present enough to feel the object and decide if he wanted to go through with it or not. A few times Theon wouldn’t even feel the cool metal of the black felt tip pen and if that were the case, Robb would be at a complete and utter loss of what to do aside from sitting and wait.

Thankfully, tonight Theon’s fingers loosely wrapped around the pen and his eyes began to focus ever-so-slightly. They were still distant but at least they were _seeing_ Robb. A small bit of relief fluttered in Robb’s chest. While it was still one of _Those Days_ , it wasn’t as bad as some of them.

“What do you want?” Robb asked softly, his fingers brushing against Theon’s and the pen.

Theon didn’t speak but his eyes drifted to Robb’s sweater and Robb knew. With a small squeeze of Theon’s cold hand, he pulled off his sweater so his chest was bare.

“Chest or back?”

Again, Theon didn’t answer with words but he reached over and grabbed Robb’s furthest arm and pulled it into his lap. Robb went willingly, turning so he was facing Theon and his arm could lay unstrained on Theon’s thighs.

Theon traced Robb’s arm with the capped pen for a moment, his eyes losing their haze but his lips were still stitched close. After a few moments of this, Theon uncapped the pen and let the cap fall somewhere in the blankets. Robb didn’t care; they’d find it later when Theon was completely present. Instead, he watched silently as Theon let the pen hover over Robb’s arm.

Theon’s dark eyes were scanning Robb’s arm to find where he wanted to start. Robb always took this as a good sign; it meant his thoughts were focused more on the present rather than the past.

Another minute passed before Theon found his starting point, a small, faint freckle near the center of Robb’s bicep. From there, Theon’s hand moved with sure-fire direction, connecting freckles and little childhood scars with thin black lines and following the curves of imaginary ones.

As Theon’s attention grew more focused on Robb’s arm rather than the suffocating thoughts in his mind, Robb began to hum a song he had heard on the radio a few days ago. He paused in the song and waited to see if Theon would finish it, he was only answered by silence and Robb picked up from where he started knowing that he still needed more time. If anything, Robb could always be patient in these quiet moments where Theon just needed time.

Twenty minutes passed and Robb could see Theon biting his lip in concentration- another good step in the right direction. At that point, Robb wrapped his other arm around Theon’s back, hesitantly at first but after seeing him not leaving the embrace, Robb settled his arm more firmly. It took another five minutes for Theon to lean into Robb’s embrace, his head resting on Robb’s chest all the while the pen never ceasing to move and Robb never stop humming, switching to a different song seamlessly.

When Theon did stop, it had been about on hour of them sitting without a word spoken and Robb’s entire bicep and half of his forearm was covered in intricate designs, some things he could make out like a snowflake and a howling wolf and other things he couldn’t that added to the background of the images.

Carefully, Robb asked, “Want some tea?” _Are you okay?_

There was a pause, and the pen reemerged, this time hovering over a point on Robb’s wrist, his eyes darting around before beginning to draw a half moon for the wolf further up his arm.

“Jasmine…in a little bit,” Theon murmured, the pen still moving swiftly. _I’m better._

Robb smiled, pleased with himself and rested his cheek against the top of Theon’s head, watching as the moon on his wrist was soon accompanied by a pretty flower Robb couldn’t name and a bird with sharp talons.

In the darkness of the room, as Theon drew and Robb watched, Robb slowly began to hum another little song, a tune from a random little ballad. Robb grinned a little brighter as Theon returned the hum, finishing the next few notes.


	74. Call [Throbb + Jon]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Character death.

He sits in a quiet room. Still, unmoving, barely breathing.

_“…Theon, I need you to call me back. It’s bad.”_

It’s hot. Unbearably _fucking_ hot. He hates the heat. He hates the sticky sweating. He hates it all. The windows are open but there is no breeze. Sweat is collecting on his forehead and dripping down his neck. It’s hot yet he can’t feel a thing.

_“What do you want, Snow? Break a nail? Bleached your black clothes?”_

Distantly, he knows he is hungry but he can’t find the ambition to do anything but sit in silence. Can’t even be bothered to turn on a light or turn the TV off. He can’t find the motivation to do anything.

_“Gods, Theon, don’t do this right now. Please.”_

Changing anything would mean leaving it all behind. That’s why the news is still droning on low and the lights are still off even though the sun has set. That’s why the window is wide open and the dry heat is creeping inside.

_“What? Are you going to yell at me? Call me an asshole? I know, I fucked up. What’s new? Robb’ll just forgive me like he always does. When he comes back-”_

Two coffee cups sit on the table in front of him. Both ice cold and still mostly full. He should pick them up and clean them before they stain the white cups. However, cleaning them would be wiping away the existence. Once he puts the two away, he will only ever be pulling out one.

_“He’s not coming back, Theon.”_

On the other side of the room, a sweater is hooked over the coatrack. It’s not his or at least it wasn’t. Now he supposes it is. He still can’t find the inner strength to stand up and claim it. He still hopes it isn’t his.

_“What do you mean? Come on, is he there? Let me talk to him and explain. It’s not a big deal, seriously, we’ve had worse fights. I just…Asha and I are weird about that stuff and coming out…Whatever. I just…fuck; I’m not talking about this with you. Let me talk to him. I know he’s there.”_

He’s shaking. It’s not from the heat or the dripping sweat on his back. It’s not from any external factor because he can’t feel anything. Yet, here he is. Shaking. Clenching his hands as painfully tight as he can in hopes to feel the bite. Still nothing. Yet he shakes.

_“Robb’s dead, Theon. Fuck, he’s dead.”_

He can’t even cry. His face is blank. So blank that it feels wrong. He can’t look in a mirror, doesn’t want to see how wrong it looks, but he knows it is wrong. His lips are nearly straight even slightly crooked up in a ghost of a smile, his eyes are clear, his breathing calmly. He’s nearly a statue but he is shaking. He can’t stop fucking shaking.

_“Don’t fucking joke, Snow. One, that shit isn’t funny. Two, you are a horrible liar. I can tell when you lie. I bet he is sitting there, shaking his head. You fucking asshole. Tell Robb when he decides not to be an immature fuck-off to call me.”_

His clothes feel weird. Too loose, like he suddenly lost fifty pounds but too tight, like they are trying to choke him. Kill him. He wishes they would. That way he doesn’t have to settle for this numb feeling.

_“I’m not kidding. Theon, I swear to any of your fucked up gods, I’m not joking. I’m not-”_

The couch is stiff. It wasn’t supposed to be stiff. They had bought it because it wasn’t stiff. It was the type of couch to suck you in and anchor you down. _He_ said it was “comfortable”. Now he thinks the stiffness is comfortable. It’s cold, hard, distant. He can’t handle warmth or comfort. Not when he lost that.

_“Shut the fuck up, Snow. Don’t you fucking s-say…No, fuck you. Fuck you. FUCK YOU. You’re fucking with me, you sick fuck. This is a fucking joke. Fuck you, Snow. Fuck you-”_

He sits in the dark, quiet room, staring at the other end, waiting for something to happen. Nothing is going to happen. Nothing can happen. People have knocked but the only person he wants is the one with the key. He doesn’t need to knock because he has a key. He’s the only one he wants to see.

_“Theon, please stop. Do you want me to come over? Please, let me do something-”_

The phone is still hanging in his hand, dead and blank. His hand is so tightly wrapped around it that his knuckles are white and if he could feel something other than numb, they were probably aching and sore. He doesn’t loosen the grip.

_“You stay the fuck away from me. I’m going to beat you fucking senseless when Robb comes back. You aren’t funny. This isn’t funny. Fuck you, Snow. F-F-Fuck…you. F-Fuc-ck you…”_

His eyes hurt but are bone dry. He thought he should have cried. He was still waiting to cry. Nothing has come yet.

_“I know. I know, I know, I know. Please come over. You’ll always, are always, welcomed here. Please, you shouldn’t be alone. N-None of us should.”_

His throat burns. That at least feels right out of everything that doesn’t. His throat burns and aches for something to soothe it. He doesn’t move to do so. The pain feels right. It feels good. It doesn’t feel enough, though.

_“Don’t fucking do that. I don’t need your pity. No, because you’re wrong. You’re fucking wrong. Don’t fucking call me again, Snow. I swear, don’t you come fucking near me. You’re wrong. You’re wrong. Fuck you. Fuck you! Robb’s not dead! Robb’s not dead! Robb’s not…he’s not…he’s coming back. He always c-comes back.”_

He hasn’t moved since this morning and won’t move ever again. Moving would mean that he has to move on and he can’t do that. He’ll stay right where he is. Right where he last saw _him_. It’s keeping the memory alive. That’s what he tells himself. He knows it is really because the memory is the only thing keeping him alive. Moving might as well send him to an early grave. The thought is tempting.

_“I’m sorry.”_

He sits in a quiet room. Still, unmoving, barely breathing.


	75. Miscommunication [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Hey, could you do a throbb fic where Greek Theon goes to Russia but then gets lost and asks Robb for help but they both know limited English and don't know each others languages and they try to use google translate but it's crappy and awkward and they're trying to flirt with each other while Robb is helping Theon get to where he needs to be going

_Goddamnit!_ Theon looked at the snow-covered area in dismay, cursing silently to himself. Of course, he’d get fucking lost. In fucking Russia. In the middle of fucking winter. _Fuck_.

He could already hear his sister cackling at him now, just as she had when he told Asha where he wanted to spend the winter holidays, just as she had when she drove him the three hours to the airport early in the morning, just as she had when she dropped him off in front of the Athens International, smirking the whole way and shaking her head. The worst part was his flight back wasn’t for another week. Not that it would matter if he couldn’t find his hotel and was left out in the freezing temperatures of a Russian winter.

Burying himself further into his jacket, Theon looked around for any signs of life. It was late in the evening and he had been walking for what seemed like hours. He just wanted to go back to his warm room and maybe stay there the rest of the trip until his taxi drove him to the airport.

As he turned the corner, he saw two men walking his way. One with red hair and the other with black hair both dressed for the weather, unlike Theon who wasn’t used to such harsh temperatures back home.

“Excuse me!” he called out in pathetic English, knowing that his Greek would be completely lost on them and he _might_ have a chance with the English.

Both jerked their heads up at his voice and Theon waved frantically at them. Even moving the extra amount seemed to bring some life back into his freezing limbs or maybe it was the sign of human life that could guide him home.

“Hello,” the redhead spoke, his cheeks dusted with pink from the nipping wind and his accent thick. If it were any other situation, Theon might have even thought it was sexy, the deep accent and polite nod, but really he just wanted to go home. He could think all about the Russian accent and sparkling blue eyes from the safe of the room.

Trying to think of the English words in his head, Theon started making abort gestures and hoped one would register in the two Russian men. “Hotel, uh, by, uh-” Theon cut himself off to curse in Greek. He really should have paid more attention in his English classes.

Both Russians looked at each other, confusion coloring their faces. The black haired one whispered to the red haired one and Theon watched helplessly as they talked. They seemed to reach some sort of decision as the red haired one pulled out his phone and began to type. A second later, he showed Theon the screen. Google Translate. _Fuck, he’s beautiful and quick thinking._

Quickly, Theon pulled out his own phone and pulled up the application. He quickly typed into the message box.

_< Hello, excuse me. Sorry to bother you.>_

He showed the Russian translation to the two men. The black haired one’s face didn’t change and Theon was beginning to think it never moved. His father’s mean-spirited stereotypes about angry Russians danced in the forethought of his mind but were quickly pushed away by the warm smile of the redhead. He quickly typed into his phone and showed the translation to Theon.

_< No worries. What is the problem?>_

Theon nearly cried tears of joy. _< I'm lost and have no idea where I am. I want to find my hotel.>_

Again, both men looked at his phone before responding, the redhead typing and the black haired one watching over his shoulder. When he turned the phone around to show Theon the message, Theon’s eyebrows pinched together.

_< What is your name? What would you like?>_

Theon could understand that Google Translate wasn’t the best of sites to be using but he couldn’t think how whatever he said got misconstrued to that. He typed back in hopes of getting the conversation back on track.

_< I’m Theon. I would like to find my hotel. It is by the park?>_

Judging by their confused expressions, the wording didn’t quite come out right.

_< I live in a house a few blocks back. Where do you live?>_ The redhead was smiling sheepishly, clearly finding this mode of communication not as great as he initially thought.

_< I’m not from here. I’m a tourist and I want to go to my HOTEL.>_ Theon angrily thrust the phone under the Russian man’s nose.

He didn’t seem perturbed by Theon’s anger at all, instead, he typed again. _< What is your name?>_

Theon growled in exasperation. _< I already told you my name. My hotel by the park. I need to find it. I’m freezing my ass off.>_

The redhead went to type again but finally, the man with black hair interfered, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder and speaking lowly to him. The redhead nodded in understanding and quickly typed out a new message.

_< My sister is fluent in English and studying Greek. We can go and see it if you want. We can get you warm too.>_ As if to make sure of that promise, the redhead pulled off his wool scarf and handed it to Theon with a bright smile.

Theon was surprised by the offer and honestly, even though his English was shit and the sister’s Greek wouldn’t be fluent, it was probably enough to get some answers. He quickly nodded his head and accepted the scarf, trying not to blush.  _< You are nice. Thank you.>_

The redhead blushed brightly at Theon’s message before typing a response. _< I think you’re very beautiful too.>_

Theon stared at the blushing redhead who threw him a timid smile. Theon wondered what the hell happened in his translation to get that response but he…actually didn’t mind that much because the redhead _was_ beautiful.

The black haired man rolled his eyes and stalked past the two, apparently leading the way to their home. The redhead pocketed his phone and held out his hand for Theon. Theon took it carefully, feeling the warmth through their two layers of gloves.

“I am Robb.”

Yup, that accent was going to be the death of him. “I am Theon,” he reiterated.

“Theon,” Robb said with his thick accent and Theon felt his stomach clench delightfully at it. “Nice to meet.”

“Nice to meet,” Theon repeated softly as Robb led him off, not releasing his hand in the process.


	76. Coming Out [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: for a prompt, Throbb vampires please! <3 Bonus points for fluffiness and domesticness!!
> 
> Happy Halloween!

Robb huffed as he watched his boyfriend dissolve into fits of laughter, doubled over and clutching his side. On the one hand, Robb loved every chance he had to make Theon smile genuinely and laugh purely. On the other hand, Robb was trying to have a serious conversation and Theon was _not_ making coming out any easier. If anything, the longer Theon laughed, the more frustrated Robb was getting.

“I’m being serious,” Robb crossed his arms with a pout which only made Theon grin wider.

Theon rolled his eyes, still smiling at the ‘joke’. “Yeah, _okay_.”

“I am!” Robb hissed as he now stood up and crossing the room to distance himself. He had imagined this conversation going many ways but being laughed at was not one of them. “Think about it.”

“You being a vampire?” Theon cocked his eyebrow, the smile slowly leaving his face as the joke began stretching too thin. “Come on, that’s ridiculous.”

“Humor me,” Robb dared, eyes locked on Theon’s.

Theon narrowed his eyes. “Fine, I’ll bite.” He smirked at his pun. “You’re a vampire.”

Robb still wasn’t pleased, especially when Theon had that look on his face. The one with a half smirked that told Robb he wasn’t taking this seriously and was turning into a sarcastic little shit. As if this whole conversation hadn’t been difficult beforehand. “Do I have to prove it?”

“The fact that you think you can prove it worries me.”

Robb yanked at his hair in frustration. “How the hell can you be so dense?”

Theon raised his eyebrows. “Dense? You’re the one who is trying to convince me you’re a vampire!”

“Because I am! Don’t you think it is weird we only ever meet up at night?”

“No!” Thon exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air for added dramatic effect. “You told me your job prevented you from meeting any other time. I took your word for it, like a _good_ boyfriend!”

Robb sighed and gnawed at his lip as frustration kept building up. “What about selfies? How come when we take them I never show up?”

Theon blinked and realized that _yeah, that was true_ but, “I just thought you were always dodging them. I thought you were, you know, camera shy?”

“I never eat anything when we go out.”

“Yeah, I thought that was fucking weird but I’m not going to press you on it. The same reason I don’t question your barely stocked refrigerator. It’s none of my business.”

“We’ve been dating for a year and you practically live over here!”

“I got used to it!” Theon paused abruptly and fixed Robb was a bewildered look. “Oh my gods, are you _serious_?”

“ _Yes_!”

Robb was expecting horror, maybe more disbelief, certainly a negative reaction. He wasn’t expecting a “Huh.”

Robb blinked. “Huh?”

Theon shrugged. “Okay, so you’re a vampire,” he said with air quotes.

“Oh my, you think I’m crazy now.”

“Well, you are trying to convince me that you’re a mythical beast so-”

“Okay, one, we are not beasts, you fucking asshole. Two, there is nothing mythical about us. We’ve been around longer than humans so back off.”

Theon shook his head in amazement, looking at Robb like he was a volcano about to erupt. “You’ve cracked. Holy shit, you’ve cracked. I thought I was the weird one in the relationship but it is you! Christ.”

Robb scrubbed his face tiredly. “I’m just going to show you, okay? I can’t believe this is how we are going to do this. I had it all planned out and you are ruining the moment. Goddamnit, Theon.”

Theon watched as Robb sunk onto the couch next to him. “What are you going to do, suck my blood?” Theon mocked.

Robb made an affronted choking noise as he stuttered, “N-No! Theon, you don’t even believe me. I don’t think we are ready to take that next step in our relationship!”

Theon’s eyebrows couldn’t even go any higher but boy did he try. “What?”

“Feeding is an extremely intimate act.” Theon fixed Robb with an _are-you-kidding-me-we-fucked-in-so-many-weird-places-I-can’t-even-name-them-all_ look. “Not the sexual kind of intimate, you dork. It’s much more than that,” Robb sighed. “No, I’m just going to show you my fangs.”

Theon did not look amused. “I swear, if you are just wearing those dollar store plastic fangs, I am breaking up with you.”

Robb almost grinned. _Almost_. “Don’t even get me started on the inaccuracy of those. Seriously, they look _nothing_ like that. I mean, those things are _puny_.”

Theon wasn’t even sure how to tackle _that_ subject so instead, he shrugged and crossed his arms defensively. “Do your worst.”

Robb threw Theon one concerned half-smile which Theon was not the least bit receptive to. Well, Robb tried to warn him. Here goes nothing.

Robb wasn’t sure what was more uncomfortable. His entire jaw cracking and his face elongating as his mouth grew out the monstrous fangs and hollowed in his eyes, stretching his skin as his bones restructured, bending and snapping into place or watching Theon observe the process in full. Robb never really knew what he looked like with, you know, mirrors and stuff, but judging by the absolute horror on Theon’s face, it must not have been pretty.

“Believe me now?” Robb asked, his fangs jutting to his lips, causing his to have a hint of a lisp. His voice was deeper, smoother but Theon didn’t seem enamored by it.

A full minute of them went by staring at each other, Theon in complete shock and Robb growing more and more uncomfortable with being exposed and _not_ feeding. He released the tension from his face, his fangs shooting back up and his face compressing into his normal human look. After the final crack of his jaw aligning, Robb looked up to see a new expression on Theon’s face. Anger.

That’s when Theon decided to punch him. Across the fucking face.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me sooner?” Theon growled as he reeled his hand back looking half ready to swing again.

Robb stared in amazement at Theon as he rubbed his jaw. “Well, I kind of thought it was obvious but my parents thought it might do well to officially tell you in case you didn’t pick up on it.”

Theon’s eyes widened. “Your whole family?”

“Even Jon,” Robb nodded, still trying to gauge where Theon stood with the whole vampirism thing.

This time, Theon was standing up and pacing. Robb remained seated on the couch.

“This…this is unbelievable.”

“Now you know why we don’t go out for Italian,” Robb attempted to joke but judging by the glare thrown his way, it wasn’t well received.

“I’m dating a vampire,” Theon said in disbelief, a hint of a hysterical laugh in his voice. “Oh my gods.”

“If it makes you feel better, you are taking this _much_ better than when Jon told Ygritte,” Robb added.

“I ate dinner at your place,” Theon looked up at Robb in horror. Theon paled slightly. “We had tomato soup. We had _tomato_ soup, right.”

Robb was up and in front of Theon in an instant, holding his shoulders carefully. “Of course we did, just ours was a little different. Yours was completely fine, blood free!”

“Oh my _gods_ ,” Theon groaned, leaning forward to put his forehead on Robb’s chest. Robb stiffened; surprised Theon was actually touching him willingly. Surprised Theon was still even _there_.

“Why are you still here?” Robb asked timidly.

Theon turned his head to the side and looked up at Robb was one eye. “I’m not entirely sure. Are you going to eat me?”

Robb pouted. “Vampires don’t eat people. Idiot.”

Theon smiled shakily. “Then I think we are good. Right?”

Robb carefully wrapped an arm around Theon and hauled him closer. Theon didn’t resist and Robb knew there were going to be fine. Just…”Only one thing.”

“What?”

Theon sounded dreadful and Robb couldn’t help grin as he said, “You can’t eat that garlic flatbread anymore. It makes kissing you fucking painful.”

Robb relaxed completely as he heard Theon chuckle, shaking with laughter in his arms. 

 


	77. Confession [Brojen]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Brojen: confession of feelings after one of them broke up with their previous bf/gf (you decide who was in the breakup and who the ex is, though please don't do Bran/Meera for that)?

“So, what is the appropriate wait period for asking your best friend out after they’ve broken up with their girlfriend?”

Meera raised an eyebrow at Bran before narrowing her eyes skeptically. “Please say you aren’t talking about me.”

Bran’s eyes widened. “No! I mean, you’re a catch, Meera but-…wait, you’ve had a girlfriend?” Bran asked, eyes alit in interest.

Meera only winked before saying, “Are you talking about my brother then?” Meera smirked as Bran’s face morphed into dismay. “Trust me, I know.”

Bran paled slightly. “How obvious am I?”

“To me and Rickon? _Very_.” Meera pulled out her phone and opened one of the applications before tossing it into Bran’s lap. “We have an ongoing chat.”

One look at the online chat title and Bran flushed bright pink and glared at Meera. “Jojen and I are not hopeless.”

“Yeah, you are,” Meera smirked. “You still want me to answer your question?”

Bran paused, halfway tempted to say no but ended up folding with a dramatic sigh. “Please?”

“I think you are already late in asking him out,” Meera stretched out her legs from her spot on the lawn.

“He broke up with _her_ this morning,” Bran frowned in confusion.

Meera grinned, “I know. You should have asked him out before he even thought about saying yes to Myrcella Baratheon. Hell, any time would have been better than before he started dating her.”

Bran rolled his eyes at Meera’s whining. “It wasn’t that bad. They didn’t even date for that long.”

“Four months is four months too long,” Meera deadpanned with a dulled glare. “Now ask him out.”

“Shouldn’t I wait?” Bran frowned.

“Nah,” Meera waved off. “He dumped her, which means he is clear to go. He can’t get any more single.”

Bran wasn’t so sure of that but Meera seemed confident and she was Jojen’s sister. Seeing Jojen approach from across the campus lawn, Meera plucked herself off the grass and leaned over Bran to whisper, “If you don’t ask him this afternoon, Rickon and I might have to take matters into our own hands and that means it’ll only be a matter of time before Robb Stark packs up the whole gang into his shitty little PT Cruiser and they were down here meddling. We don’t want that, right?”

Bran glanced up at Meera. “Have you been talking to Arya again?”

Meera simply smiled and patted his head. “Ask him.”

With that, Meera was gone and Jojen had taken her place beside Bran on the grass seconds later.

“Why’d Meera run off?”

Bran glanced over at Jojen and shrugged hopelessly. Saying _to give us privacy while I make my heartfelt confession_ somehow didn’t seem appropriate for Bran’s nerve levels. “Class?”

Jojen shrugged and took it for what it was, leaning so his head rested on Bran’s shoulder. “You don’t have class, right?”

“Not for a couple of hours,” Bran bit back a smile.  “You?”

“I’m done for the day,” Jojen shrugged off. “I’ve avoiding the quad, though.”

Bran wrinkled his nose. “You and Myrcella split up the campus in your break up? Are there settlement papers too?”

“It’s not like that,” Jojen shifted his head and his nose brushed against Bran’s cheek causing him to realize how close they were and back off a bit. “It was amicable and you know that.”

“Why’d you even date her?” Bran asked and winced, wondering if he sounded as bitter as he felt.

Jojen leaned back further and smirked. “She asked.”

“Is that all it takes?” Bran puffed his chest. “If I just asked you, would you date me?”

Jojen paused and looked up thoughtfully. “That’s different.” Bran tried not to think about the dangerous churn of hope in his stomach.

“Why would that be different?” Bran breathed.

Jojen frowned like the answer was obvious. “Because we are best mates.”

“Best mates can’t date?” Bran raised both eyebrows. “Maybe your right, dating complete strangers like Myrcella Baratheon makes much more sense.”

Jojen cocked an eyebrow. “Careful now, you almost sound jealous.”

_Maybe I am._ “No,” Bran shook his head. “I just don’t follow your logic.”

Jojen fell back onto the grass in a limp heap. Bran looked down to see Jojen had crossed his arm over his face with a pout. “Fine, best friends _can_ date. But the feelings would have to be there and yours aren’t.”

Bran was about to drop the subject, pleased Jojen conceded but stopped in the realization that Jojen never mentioned if _his_ feelings were there.

“What about yours?” Bran shifted so he was facing Jojen, putting more pressure on his arms holding him upright.

Even with his arm half covering his face, Bran could see the red tinting Jojen’s ears. “What about them?”

“Your lack of an answer would have one believe it to be an answer in it of itself.”

Jojen seemed to regain some composer with the hypothetical hanging between them. “What if it was? What you’re your response be? I mean, you were the one who said best friends can date.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Bran’s mouth. “You’re right. I said it. I think if you are going to date someone you should be friends with them too.”

“Your lack of a straightforward answer would have one believe it to be an answer in it of itself,” Jojen mimicked with raised eyebrows.

“Well,” Bran averted his eyes, “there you go. My answer.”

When Bran looked back up, Jojen had moved closer, his face incredibly close to Bran’s. “Fuck, please tell me if I am reading the situation wrong.”

“I don’t believe you are,” Bran breathed as he brought their lips together.


	78. Broke [Gendrya]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: I heard you want gendrya prompts, so consider this: "I faked my own death to get out of a marriage, but I didn't think through afterwards and I have no money, so can I stay with you? I promise I can work off my debts!"

As Gendry was just about to settle into a deep sleep after a long and tedious day of work (which was technically still in progress), he was yanked awake by the low humming of a motorcycle, nearly toppling out of his desk chair and onto the floor because of it.

It was nearly three in the morning if the blinking light of the analog clock could be trusted (it couldn’t, Hot Pie never fixed it after power outages), and there weren’t many people who came this far out from the big city. Standing up and cracking his back, Gendry peered out the window to see the single headlight of the motorcycle parked on the curb. The rider, a short little fello, had climbed off and was racing toward the door, avoiding the onslaught of rain Gendry hadn’t taken notice to prior.

The rider got to the door before Gendry could even register it and knocked loudly. Gendry was just overall thankful the rider didn’t ring the doorbell and wake the other occupants.

Answering the door, Gendry was stunned to see that the rider was not male as he previously thought but a girl, a young girl, barely looking legal let alone old enough to ride a bike of that size…in a dress. A pale blue dress that was soaked and dripping with a large leather jacket thrown over her shoulders. Gendry squinted through the rain to see it was an antique Harley. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to know how she could acquire the beast of a bike.

“Your sign says there is an occupancy,” the girl broke into his thoughts, looking up at him with a dark scowl that seemed even darker with her dripping hair framing her face. “Is that still true?”

Gendry blinked. “Uh, yeah, come in,” he opened the door wider for the girl as she brushed past him to get in. He walked past her to get to the desk he had fallen sleep and quickly went to a blank page in the guest book. “I take it you just want a single night stay?” Gendry could see she didn’t have any bags on her, not even a purse or backpack.

“Yeah,” she shuffled anxiously looking around the aged home. “Uh, how much is it?”

Gendry listed the price and watched as her face paled. She held up a finger and pulled out a leather wallet was her back pocket, flipping through it. She yanked out a few bills, put the wallet back into her pocket and yanked out _another_ wallet which she skimmed through also. Gendry could hear a soft curse and she shoved the wallet back into her pocket and turned to face him.

“Never mind,” she muttered darkly and spun on her heel.

She was halfway to the door when Gendry called out, “Wait!” She paused and did a half turn to acknowledge him. “How much do you have? There isn’t a hotel around here for at least another hour.”

“Fifty bucks and a Starbucks gift card that’s half used,” she called back with a grimace. “I thought my brother and boyfriend would be more prepared when I stole it from them. ‘Figured they’d be carrying more on them to an engagement party.”

Gendry wasn’t even sure which subject to address and a million questions were racing through his head but all he knew for certain was that he couldn’t send her back out there in the rain, on a motorcycle no less. Not only was it dangerous external conditions, but she also looked half dead on her feet which Gendry now noticed were clunky heels.

“How about you give me thirty bucks and in the morning you can buy me coffee and explain _what_ that even means?”

She blinked, surprised and weary. “I don’t have enough.”

“I’m aware, but I don’t meet a lot of interesting people who steal from their brother and their boyfriend during engagement parties,” Gendry smirked. “Running a B&B pretty much limits you to old people and newlyweds.”

The second the words came out of his mouth, the girl flinched and looked away. “When’s check out?” she asked the ground rather than Gendry.

“Eleven, but like I said, you owe me a coffee in the morning,” Gendry stated calmly.

Her eyes were like steel but she slowly nodded her head. “Showers don’t cost anything, right?”

“I should hope not,” Gendry shrugged as he beckoned her back over. “I’m going to need your name for the guestbook and my thirty bucks.”

The girl finally returned his smile, although it was very hesitant, and produced the bills. “My name’s Arya.”

“I look forward to coffee tomorrow,” Gendry nodded as he handed her the key with a green two dangling from it. “Need help finding your room?”

“No,” she conceded turning on her heel but paused. “You don’t know a mechanic around here that can check out my bike, do you? I’m not sure when my cousin last checked it out and I thought I heard it clicking.”

“I can take a look,” he offered before adding, “but then we better make coffee, breakfast.”

“Don’t you have a B&B to run?” Arya crossed her arms and leaned against the banister to the second floor.

“I don’t do the breakfast run,” Gendry shrugged. “My buddy takes care of that. He’s an overall better cook than I am.”

“I hope he makes pancakes,” Arya took a step toward the stairs signaling the end of the discussion.

Gendry watched her leave and glanced back out the raining window toward the Harley parked on the curb. A million questions were running through his mind and it didn’t look hopeful he was going to get back to sleep anytime soon. He better start coming up with a reason to tell Hot Pie as to why he was short on the money for the rented room that didn’t involve his curiosity of the stranger girl riding in at three in the morning. Also, he needed to persuade Hot Pie into pancakes. That was important.


	79. Rivals? [Rickon + throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: When you have time I have a prompt for rival teachers robb & theon keeping their relationship a secret at the school. :)

Rickon watched as the Morning Battle began as students slowly drifted down the hallway and to their first classes of the day, rushing and ducking past the teachers opposite to each other glaring daggers and throwing snide remarks across the hall. Beside Rickon, his fellow peers giggled as their homeroom teacher sent a particularly low growl at the neighboring teacher from across the hallway. Neither teacher spoke, but the tension was palpable.

“Why does Mr. Greyjoy hate your brother so much?” one whispered to Rickon as they watched Mr. Greyjoy snap back at something Robb had said.

Rickon did what he always did when someone asked him this question. He shrugged and went back to doing his work, trying to ignore the warring middle school teachers. It would be useless to tell everyone that their rivalry was a fucking sham.

It had started in July before the school year even began. Rickon had been dropped off at Robb’s for the weekend and when he knocked on the door he was greeted by a stranger sans a shirt. Robb appeared seconds later, shooing the stranger back into his room (fuckin’ gross) and ushering Rickon into the kitchen where he was given half-truths and burnt cookies.  

That weekend, Rickon met Robb’s- _“he’s not my boyfriend”_ –acquaintance Theon Greyjoy. Rickon had liked Theon. He was funny, gave Robb the proper amount of shit and was pretty chill. Plus, they binged all six of the Star Wars movies that weekend _and_ he showed Rickon his Jedi tattoo. Theon was the coolest person Robb ever dated ( _“We’re not dating!”_ ).

_Oh,_ Rickon thought as he watched his totally-in-love brother sprawled out on the couch beside his definite boyfriend where they were whispering and giggling to each other, _they are so dating._

Rickon was practically head over heels for Theon too (and he was at least open about it unlike _some people_ )…until Robb and Theon sat him down a week before school began, somber expressions on both of their faces.

“So, there is something we need to tell you,” Robb said, looking at Theon pointedly.

Rickon grinned, “You’re dating?”

“ _No!_ ” Robb squealed while Theon smirked with a “Pretty much.”

Theon and Robb both stared at each other with too open expressions and Rickon couldn’t believe they are going to have this conversation _now_. Nearly two months later. Fucking idiots. Robb gave Theon the embarrassed look of _we’ll-talk-later_ before nodding his head to Rickon. Theon shrugged, smirking pleased with himself because for what appeared to be the first time in his life, Theon had his shit together. (Oh, and Rickon had been regaled by the tales of Theon’s youth and the large amount of screw ups…just… _wow_.)

“Not that,” Theon sighed. “I’m actually going to be teaching your math class this year.”

Oh. Not what Rickon was expecting but, “Cool.”

“Rickon,” Robb used his Big Brother™ voice, “no one can know about this.” He waved between himself and Theon.

Rickon raised an eyebrow and Theon elaborated. “We aren’t telling people yet that we’re…” Theon raised an eyebrow at Robb before smirking, “ _dating_ and we’d like to keep it that way.”

“So you want to…keep it a secret?” Rickon looked between the two.

“Sure, I’ll even give you A’s on your tests,” Theon shrugged with a lazy grin to which Robb responded with a resounding slap on the shoulder and a _“You will absolutely not do that!”_

“You want me to lie?” Rickon clarified as Robb settled back down.

“Conceal,” Theon corrected with a sly smirk. “For now at least.”

Rickon looked between his obviously-in-love brother and his obviously-reciprocating boyfriend dumbfounded. “And you two are going to conceal?”

Within second of being introduced to Sansa, Bran, and even Arya, the three siblings had all shared a mutual look of _“Really, Robb? Just a friend?”_ Jon didn’t even have words, just wrinkled his nose with an expression of _“But could you not be so obvious? There are children present.”_

“We aren’t that obvious,” Theon waved off.

Rickon only raised an eyebrow at Robb who responded with, “Don’t worry; we have a sound proof plan.”

Oh! That plan? Having spats in the middle of faculty meetings and bad mouthing each other to anyone who would listen. Rickon thought it was hilarious and often helped them write their material which was a whole other level of fun (Robb was still upset that Rickon had shared the Frey Story). It was all going perfectly fine…until he found out about the make-up sex and well…Rickon removed himself from their affairs and figured they were the adults, they could handle themselves. Hopefully.

Granted, they seemed to be doing just fine holding up the title of rivalry on their own.

That being said, Rickon did his best not to comment on the nature of his brother’s rivalry with Mr. Greyjoy, no matter how many times his fellow peers pressed and pestered.


	80. Reaction [Jongritte]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everylittlelie: Ygritte’s reaction to Jon coming out as a vampire. Sequel to Ch. 76 Coming Out [Throbb]

Jon was expecting a wide variety of reactions when he told Ygritte about his… _condition_. He thought she might yell (he was actually near certain she would). He considered she might laugh it off (she did in most cases). He was even expecting violence (a typical response from his girlfriend). Calamity, however, was not remotely on his radar.

“Hmm,” Ygritte hummed after five minutes of contemplative silence, cocking her head to the side.

“Hmm?” Jon questioned. That could not be all she had to say. Not Ygritte, who had a damn opinion on everything- and had to say it all too.

Ygritte’s eyebrows pinched for a second before she reached around her neck and unclasped the gold chain she was always wearing. On it was a pendant which she unhooked from the chain with agile fingers. She looked at it with curiosity for a moment before looking up at Jon. Then she chucked the damn thing at him, nailing him right in the forehead.

“What the hell, Ygritte?” Jon exclaimed, rubbing the surely reddening spot on his forehead as he grabbed the fallen pendant from his lap. It was sharp and Ygritte had a hell of a throw.

“Did that hurt?” Ygritte asked curiously, eyes wide and searching.

Jon stared at her with the most bewildered expression. “You threw a piece of metal at my face, what do you think?”

Ygritte rolled her eyes exaggeratingly. “Did it _burn_?”

“Did it-” Jon stopped as he looked down at what the pendant actually was. “A cross? Really, Ygritte? I said I was a vampire, not a demon. What the fuck?”

“Do those exist?” Ygritte asked eagerly.

“I think you are missing the more important topic of discussion,” Jon sighed, rubbing his face and tossing back the cross pendant.

Ygritte rather than ask Jon about the intricacy of vampirism or why he kept the secret from her for so long, asked, “Are you using me for my body?”

Jon looked up to see his girlfriend of nearly a year and a half putting the necklace back around her neck, expression calm as ever. “Excuse me?”

Ygritte looked up at him with a dark smirk. “I’ve read the books-”

“Don’t you dare bring your shitty vampire romances into this,” Jon hissed. He knew having Ygritte, Robb, and Sansa form of book club was an awful idea. Especially after Jon saw the covers of several of the books…

“So you aren’t using me for my body,” Ygritte surmised before frowning deeply. “Why not?”

Jon choked. “Why am I not using you for your body?”

“Yeah, is there something wrong with it?” Ygritte looked herself over with a slight frown. “You’ve never once tried to bite me. Or do you not eat where you fu-”

“Stop!” Jon cut her off quickly before she could finish the whole word. Jon would be bright red if he, you know, had blood in his body for it to rise to his cheeks. “It…it’s not because I don’t want to!”

“Then why haven’t you?” Ygritte raised an eyebrow.

“Because I wouldn’t do it without consent!” Jon yelped. “Look, the whole process is complicated and has a whole lot of meanings and-”

“But you’ve thought about it?” Ygritte smirked knowingly.

Jon looked away because seriously? This was the conversation they were having? “Of course.”

Ygritte nodded along. “Gods, you are sweet, Snow.”

Jon looked back to see Ygritte looking around unaffected by the conversation that had just passed. “So, is that it?”

Ygritte shrugged, “I about think so.”

Jon stared at his girlfriend. “Are you serious?”

Ygritte looked over at him grinning. “What else is there to say?”

“Do you have any other questions about how this would work?”

“I mean if it has been working like this for a year and a half, I’d say we don’t have to change much if anything at all,” Ygritte grinned.

“How are you just okay with this?” Jon asked in disbelief.

“Oh,” Ygritte pulled Jon closer as she pulled out her phone. “I’ve been talking to Tormund about this for _months._ Let’s just say, this is way better than the theories we’ve come up with.”

Ygritte passed her phone that contained a list of the so-called “theories”. Jon wasn’t even halfway through the list before he passed it back, a sneer forming on his face.

“I can’t believe you thought I was a _werewolf_ ,” he spat out the last word with disgust.

Ygritte raised her eyebrows before grinning with delight. “This is just like Twli-”

Jon gave her a stern glare. “Don’t you dare finish that word.”

Ygritte burst out into peals of laughter, throwing her head back with her shoulders shaking with delight. “Do I even want to know?”

“I think we should save that for another time.”

Another time turned out to be the next day as Ygritte woke Jon up in the middle of the day, laughing loudly as she finally understood why Jon had blackout curtains in his apartment. This was then followed by three hours of intensive questions, sixteen different vampire books brought up (all of which were highly inaccurate), and the insistence that if Jon tried hard enough, he could turn into a bat.


	81. Loop [Lenly]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr user Lola--fcb: Hey:)Could you write something about LorasRenly where it was Loras who died and Renly not beeing able to deal with it.I love the idea of that and always wanted to see how that would've turned out.Here I am again.And its okay if it takes some time.:)

His mind was on a loop. A one track, one-way road with no exit, no end. It just keeps repeating, starting from the very beginning and looping back once it has reached the end. Repeating the same event over, and over, and over, and over, making it the only thing on his mind, could ever possibly be in his forethought. Whether it was day or night, eyes closed or open, Renly could still see the life leave those golden eyes, drips of blood painting soft lips, armor-clad chest falling for a final time, never to rise again, only in memory.

He could still taste the blood in his mouth, even though sweet wines had washed the iron out long ago. His jaw still aches from behind thrown to the ground and smashing to the earth. His clothes were still stained with dirt and blood, neither of which was his own. At night, tears still pricked at his eyes as he lay next to a woman who held back her own wrecked sobs.

His mind was on a loop, going back to the beginning where an up and coming knight and lord took on a young and loyal squire. Where long nights were spent in each other’s company, whispering and laughing together. Where hunts were taking together, just the two of them for days at a time. Where gentle but sure hands unbuckled armor and carefully set it aside. Where those same hands drained the tension from stiff shoulders and an aching back. Where soft lips brushed against each another behind closed doors with no one the wiser.

His mind was on a loop, going to marriage plots and kingly brothers, the laugher and the scolder. It goes back to his brother’s drinking and whoring while his other brother stayed in the dark tower of Dragonstone. It goes back to boars and bastards and word of the Lannisters rising. It goes back to men rallying him as he fights brother against brother. The loop never breaks but if it could, it would go back to a time when the youngest of three watched his elder brothers from afar: one boisterous and laughing while the other was serious and scowling.

Even as time goes on, his mind goes back to that night. _A shadow_ , it still puzzles him. A shadow meant for him but it only took a shove, a push in a different direction for the shadow to plunge into the heart one a different victim.

There were no last words, not when life bleeds out so quickly. Not enough time, the loop always reminded him how they had so little time. But they were never much for words, actions were more secure and sure. Where there were words, there were ears listening. Everyone in the King’s court knew about Varys’ little birds, so two lovers kept their goings quiet, private.

Looks and subtle nods became their language. Gentle brushes of arms and twitches of eyebrows. Eyes locking across the room or a seemingly meaningless cough. Those things meant so much at a time when two were sharing, now they were meaningless with only one remaining. Still, he finds himself glancing up at the slightest of coughs or locking eyes with a stranger when there was nothing to be said.

He thought vengeance would make the loop stop, break it off and travel somewhere else. He thought he’d be able to move on. Even as he watched alliances come and go, sieges attempt and fail, and death…so much death…even with seeing all that, the loop just repeats. The loop has no mercy.

His wife becomes pregnant and he is sure that the loop will finally break. It has to. Where there is death, there is life. It is a tradeoff. His Flower Knight bleed in his tent from the curse of a witch and his son was born in the shadows of dawn, wet nurses and a maester wiping the grime from his pale skin.

“Loras,” his wife insists and Renly wants to vomit, “that’s what we are calling him.” There is no room for discussion in her voice, weak and tired as it is.

Renly knew he should deny that request. He is King and he has lost so much. He shouldn’t lose this. Advisers had already come by and insist he call the boy Robert, to gain the support of those who still weep for his eldest brother.

Renly says nothing as the child wrapped in green and gold is placed in his arms. Its face is red and scrunched and Renly has half the mind to rid himself of the child, put it back into its mother’s arms and let his mind reset the loop to when he was only days old, cradled in his brother’s arms listening to him read all those many books…the same brother who sent the death wish for him. His hands shake in the memory and his stomach churns unpleasantly.

He goes to spit out the name Robert. He gathers the strength to keep his voice strong and even, using his King Renly voice to make his wife submit. The same wife whose curls and heart shaped face remind him of another, where large doe brown eyes are replaced with sharp golden ones.

He goes to say a name, but his mind is on a loop.

When the child opens its eyes and there is neither green nor brown. There is only gold.

His mind is on a loop when he says the child’s name, a name that hadn’t left Renly’s lips since a shove to the ground saved his life at the cost of another so, so precious to him.

His mind is on a loop, a loop that he cannot escape, where brother’s curses shatter his heart and gold eyes haunt his soul.


	82. Romantic Highlights [Throbb, mentions of Jaime/Brienne]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: omg????? your olympic headcanons are something i didnt know i needed??? i love them its V cute !!!! // could you maybe write something with them in it???? ;000

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story takes place after olympic headcanons which you can read on my old blog  here Probably need them as a reference for the rest of the fic :)

_"Is your TV on?"_

Theon rolled his eyes, as he flipped through the channels. "Yes."

_"And are you on the right channel?"_

Theon shook his head fondly, the phone wedged between his head and shoulder. "Almost."

_"Hurry up! Or you're going to miss it!"_

"I still have a few minutes, calm down Stark."

There was a pause on the other line before Robb was back. _"Jon says they sometimes start early. You can’t miss a_ second _of it."_

"Oh, well if Snow says so, who am I to say no that _that."_

_"Be nice,"_ Robb warned but with no heat in his tone. Theon was pretty sure the idiot was smiling. _"He doesn't want you to miss it either. Is Asha there yet? You said you invited her."_

"She is downstairs, probably chatting to some neighbor or another.” Theon shrugged once again. "It happens. As long as she doesn't go inside their apartment, we are good."

_"Uh, why?"_

"Because then they'll have _coffee_ and _diples_ and it'll go on and on for hours."

_"Greeks are weird."_

"Oh, I'm aware," Theon laughed lightly. His front door opened and his sister slipped inside. "Asha is here."

_"Tell her to sit down! It is almost starting. Oh, and I also say hi. I wanted to ask her about her lift techniques too."_

"Asha, Robb says hi," Theon repeated, this time in Greek.

Asha sat beside Theon and yanked the phone away from him. "Hello Robb! When are you going to come here and marry my brother? He’s getting old." Embarrassment flooded Theon and he fought for the phone back. Asha dogged and laughed at whatever response he gave. "Have you seen _My Big Fat Greek Wedding_? It is pretty accurate. It'll be kind of like that, minus the family part. Ours are kind of dicks, but our neighbors nicely replace it. And Theon’s teammates are really swell." Theon managed to grab the phone back just as Asha finished listening to whatever Robb had to say and before she could utter her next sentence.

"Ignore her," Theon hissed. He turned to his sister and whispered in Greek, "We aren't there yet. We've only known each other for six months."  Asha waved him off and he went back to Robb. "Seriously, ignore her."

_"Aw, but Sansa loves that_ _movie."_

"Buy her the Blu-ray," Theon snapped back playfully.

_"Whatever, you- Hold that thought! I think it is starting."_

Sure enough, the screen of Theon’s TV was showing the Olympic rings and then dissolved to the hosts who began speaking. "Hello, I'm Varys Lys and this is my Co-Host Petyr Baelish and you are watching the _2016 Olympic Highlights Part Three_ of this six part series."

_"This is it. We_ got _to be Part Three. Come on!"_

"Last night we covered _Underdogs and Up and Coming Stars_ and tonight we'll be talking about one of the most talked about events of this year's Olympics. Two players from different countries, in different sports, find friendship, comradery...and love."

_"Hell yes! I told you it was going to be us! I. Told. You! Arya owes me twenty bucks,"_ Robb cheered on the other line as well as the people he was with, loud hoots and hollers as everyone clapped.

“You and your family are dorks.”

_“You love us,”_ Robb cooed lovingly.

Theon looked at the screen where the two hosts went through a contrived narrative of unlikely romances in the past Olympic Games. "They don't seriously have enough material to cover a thirty minute segment? We couldn’t have been that interesting."

As if answering his question, Petyr Baelish began speaking, picking up where Varys left off. "With the help of teammates, family, friends, and a few anonymous submissions, we were able to piece this story to its roots and get the full blossoming of their relationship from the very beginning. You won’t miss a single detail of this legendary romance."

Theon scoffed. “Don’t you think they are laying it on a bit thick?”

_“Shut up, we are amazing and deserve the affection.”_

"But first," Vary raised his finger, "some background on our two star-crossed athletes. We start with a young girl-"

_"Wait...neither of us is a girl?"_

"-from a small town in Northern England. Brienne of Tarth had been training for this day-"

“Oh no.” Theon couldn’t help but start laughing.

_"Noooo! Did we seriously get beat by Brienne Tarth and_ Jaime Lannister _? That guy is an asshole! We were much better! Don't they remember the good luck kiss? The kiss heard around the world?"_

Theon chuckled. "I think you are exaggerating."

_"Exaggerating? Hell no! We made the paper?"_

"They captured the market on hidden and forbidden romance," Theon shrugged helplessly. "That's good TV."

_"But we were so cute and good!"_

"Not as good as a modern retelling for, what are they calling it? 'The Epic Mixture of Beauty and the Beast, Romeo and Juliet, and all romance movies'?"

_"But that's so contrived. We had originality and chance meetings."_

"Face it Robb, we were boring in comparison. Plus, the whole gay thing doesn't help. You know how some viewers are and this Olympics wasn't as big a hit as the last couple. They needed the ratings and they had better odds with the straigths."

_"I bet their publicist organized it. I bet it isn't even real."_

"We went out to dinner with them on the last night, you dork. Besides, you shined through on _Up and Coming Stars_ last night."

_"Would it hurt to mention us? Like once? Like seriously. We were quality TV. They even made t-shirts with us on it. We are Throbb. Theon. We. Are. Throbb. We have the celebrity pairing name, what else do we need to do?"_

"Says the athlete who didn’t' care about cameras or fans when he was doing the Tri," Theon smiled softly. "It's not a big deal."

_"Yeah, I know, but I kind of wanted to see it, tape it, and keep it. For the future. Now I have the news footage of Jaime and Brienne and what am I going to do with that?"_

"It'd be a cheap wedding present," Theon offered. "Just wrap that up with a toaster and you are good to go...if you get invited."

_"When_ we _get invited, you can feel free to jump in on my DVD and toaster gift. That'll really stick it to them. I mean, joint gifts are cute as fuck."_

"You are so petty and I love it."

_"You do?"_

"Idiot, I do."

Beside him, Asha dropped the remote and jumped to her feet. "He asked you?" she yelped. "I'll call Dagmer, he'll want to know. Of course, Robb will need to be baptized under the Orthodox Church and-"

On the phone, Theon could hear Robb laughing and Theon narrowed his eyes. "You fucking sneak."

_“Like you said, you love it.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> As usual, always free to come say Hi on my new blog on [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	83. Tattoo [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: do you think robb would get a small kraken tattoo for theon? and like maybe he wouldn't even tell theon about it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't even a prompt request, I just happened to have a snippet from a never-to-be-finished wip that fit it :)

Robb closed his eyes as he felt Theon’s lips skim lower and lower down his body, a light brushing at his collar bone, a few love bites at his chest, a dash of tongue on his belly, going lower and lower until-

“What the fuck is this?”

Robb’s eyes flew open and he sat up just enough to see Theon looking at the small tattoo on the underside of Robb’s wrist, Theon’s head turned to the side and resting on Robb’s stomach. When Robb didn’t answer for a few moments, Theon turned, eyebrow quirked up in confusion mixed with amusement.

“Is…is that a little squid?”

Robb swallowed down the nervous lump in his throat. “I’ll have you know, it is a kraken.”

Theon’s face broken into a laugh, buried his face into Robb’s hip as his hand shot out for Robb’s wrist. With a long finger, Theon traced the tiny tattoo gently. “It’s so puny. Where did you even get it? _When_ did you get it? This wasn’t here when I left, was it?”

“When I was eighteen,” Robb grumbled. He yanked his wrist away, Theon let him.

Robb could feel the pressure of Theon turning his head, his chin digging into Robb’s hip as he stared Robb down. “Eighteen?” When Robb nodded, Theon ducked his head down and pressed a light kiss. “So when I was gone?”

“I wasn’t sure I was going to see you again,” Robb shrugged, remembering the day when Theon turned eighteen and Robb was still sixteen. Theon said he needed to get away, see the world without his dad holding him back. Theon had claimed he’d be back when Robb turned eighteen but in the true Theon fashion, he was two years late, with them falling into bed together eight months later.

“Well, you were wrong.” Theon snapped his hand out for Robb’s wrist and reeled it back in. “So does that mean you are going to keep it or are you going to get rid of it since I’m back?”

Rather than pulling his hand away, Robb shifted the grip to lace their fingers together. “I think it means you need to get a matching one?” He could feel the smile pulling at his lips even though he tried to keep it back down.

“What? A little wolf?” Theon grinned wickedly, shifting upward on the bed to tower over Robb once more, not letting go of his hand. “How do you know I don’t already have one hidden?”

Sitting up completely straight, Robb wrapped his other arm around Theon’s waist and pull him closer. “I guess I’m going to have to check, alright I?”

“Better be thorough,” Theon winked with devious smirk.


	84. Clothing [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: THROBB- Theon wearing his boyfriend's clothing ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As most of you know, in the show, Theon wears the outfit Robb had worn to the Red Wedding during Sansa's wedding. That's what this is in reference to.

Reek stared at the fine black clothing laid out before him. He had been brought up to one of the empty rooms of Winterfell, one he had never been in but an ache in his chest came upon stepping inside. Then again, that always happened when he walked the stone and frozen halls.

Two serving girls, marred with scars and bruises stood by his side to assist him but he paid them no mind. Reek knew better than to look at things that weren’t his. Still, he couldn’t help but look at the clothes that were clearly _not_ his. His eyes were focused on the fabric, dark, simple, _expensive,_ his mind hissed with familiarity.

He had seen this before, Reek was quite sure but he couldn't remember where. It was from a time where Reek hadn't existed. A time that Reek didn't know.

With shaking fingers, he touched the fabric, feeling the thick wool fibers cling to his callouses and jarred skin of his remaining fingers.

_"I look like a pompous asshole in this."_

_"No, you look like a king."_

Removing his hand, Reek began to detangle the dirty rags from his body, weak fingers digging into tight knots that were matted with dirt, mud, and shit. But, it was a mindless task, one not unlike untying sailor knots or jerkin strings.

_"Let me help you take that off, Your Grace."_

_"I told you not to call me that when we're alone."_

The rags and scraps of dirty fabric fell to the ground and Reek turned to the tub that had been brought in for him. Just warm water, a clean rag, and a small vial of scented oil. Reek never used the oil when he was permitted the rare bath. He could never uncork them.

_"That's too much! You're getting it everywhere!"_

_"Trust me, we want this stuff everywhere. Trust me."_

The bath was quick and the two serving girls were efficient, wiping and scrubbing the layers of dirt and grime from his skin until Reek was red and mostly clean. The waters of the tub were now cold and black.

_"It's called the Sunset Sea, not the Death Sea!"_

_"I'm telling you, that's how they looked! Now, do you want me to continue the story?"_

The cold winds licked his body as he shuffled to the bed, his bare feet unsteady and broken. The two serving girls grabbed the clothes piece by piece and struggled to put them on him. His joints were frozen and stiff and his movements were weak and wobbly. Reek was born in the cold that was freezing him to death. He was used to the feeling now, his mind having no indication of what the sun could feel like. What warmth was.

_"It’s freezing out here!"_

_"I'll warm you up when we get back."_

The clothes were thick and warm on his trembling body. They did not fit. These clothes were meant for a man, a well fed, strong, full, kind man. Someone with a complete body, someone with muscles and body to fill it, somehow who was warm and attentive and present. Not someone dead and certainly not for Reek. Reek tried to think of Master Ramsay in them, but Master Ramsay didn't have red hair or kind smiles like the ones in Reek's head.

_"Do you think we'll be going home soon?"_

_"Of course, now smile and show your men what a leader looks like."_

The last piece was the cloak, heavy and velvet. Reek's knees threatening to buckle under the additional weight. However, when he looked down he noticed it was wrong. It was all wrong. Two leather strips were wrapped around his torso to keep the cloak in place, but it was supposed to be silver clasps?

_"Does everything you have need a damn wolf on it?_

_"Sometimes even two."_

His hair was a matter neither serving girl was willing to spend much time on. They had to cut parts out and the rest could only be combed back with oil keeping its shape and keeping it from falling out completely. Reek wondered what it looked like, seeing chunks of white, grey, and light brown sprinkling on the floor by his boots.

" _You got this. You're like your father in everything but looks."_

_"But will that be enough?"_

The two serving girls left and Reek was alone in the room, wearing the clothes of a man he didn't know, but knew it was wrong. Perhaps another test? Reek wondering if he already failed. Fingers drifted down his chest, feeling the fine lines of the fabric once more.

_"This war is changing me, changing all of us. Promise me you won't change too?"_

_"I'll always be with you, at your side."_

A door behind Reek opened and he turned. A gruff man stood with a lantern in his hands, handing it to Reek. "It's time."

_"Now?"_

_"Always."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come Say Hi on [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	85. All This Time [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was feeling down and wrote this a while ago. If you follow me on Tumblr, I had posted this a while ago.

“After all this time?” she asked, her voice uncommonly small; sympathy and compassion a new tone for her and hard to picture with that kind smile replacing brass determination. “You can’t let it go, can you?”

Images of red hair and bright smiles flew to his mind, his eyes fluttering shut at the thoughts. Two boys meeting in dark corridors, stable yards, and dense wood, sharing hidden moments together when very nature tried to keep them apart. Promises whispered under candlelight and oaths sworn under the stars. Bonds strengthen in times of silence and bolded by laughter. A gaudy ugly ring exchanged with teases of _“It’s more your style!”_ now hung by a black leather cord around his neck. His albatross carrying more weight than even Atlas could bear. Stories of winters and wolves and knights and bright happy futures all caved in by betrayal, wrong choices, and regret. And death. A permanent scar shattering blue, blue eyes and vows of brotherhood. Foreheads pressed together with excitement bubbling to the top, memory after memory coming until it felt like _he_ was right in front of him instead of in an unmarked grave leagues away.

He swallowed hard and held back the urge to reach for his albatross ring.

“Now and always,” he answered his sister lowly despite the question being asked what felt like years ago and unimportant to anyone else but him. Those were words that only meant something to two people, one of which was no more.

Now and always he had said. Of course that was his answer. That was always his answer. It would always be his answer. It had been his answer ever since it had been posed as a question _to_ him. Now and always, even if it meant alone in a sea of regret. Now and always, though he would suffer in solitude. Now and always, a permanent scar deeper than any other on his body. Now and always, pure innocent words said with hope and love that had long turned sour and bitter with age and memory.

He closed his eyes hard until color began to swirl within the darkness. Closed his eyes hard enough for red to appear, red like autumn leaves- not the death of an enemy, two different reds with two different beauties.

He snapped his eyes wide open, temporarily blinded by the harsh light. It stung his eyes but nothing was nearly as painful as the wrongs he had made hanging over his head, not even the ache of his remaining bones and crumbling mind. The wrongs of being alive when others were not, the wrongs of living alone instead of dying side by side like they had promised, the wrongs of being far away when he should have been there, he should have died with him, where was he? _Where was he?_

His vision came back slowly. Stone walls, wooden desk, stern sister with worried expression, watching patiently and calculatingly. That’s the sister he knew. Less compassion, more judgment. Neutral, as always. Familiarity of that sight brought him more comfort than those soft words did.

However, despite trying against it, his hand had still come up and grasped the ring around his neck, his hand in a tight, but weak, fist until the metal could cut raggedy rough skin.

Now and always, he had said in words years ago and yet forever and present. Now and always, he heard in phantom memories that haunted him. Now and always, he felt as cold winds nipped at his skin and stuck his bones like heavy iron hammers. Now and always, he cut into his skin with a ring borrowed, not given but never yet to be returned.

_“Take this and bring it back to me,”_ he had been ordered with a confident smile but eyes begging him to stay.

_“I will,”_ he had promised with lies he hadn’t known at the time. _“I swear on my life.”_

Now and always, the gods taunted, his life being punished and prolonged when death was _owed_ to him much sooner. Now and always, he remained despite begging otherwise. Now and always, his words turned against him, keeping him away rather than reuniting.

_I should have died with him._

Death was owed to him, long passed over due.

They would meet again, he was sure. He would return the ring, as he had promised, now and always. Now and always, they had sworn as they bound themselves together. Now and always, their word was law, a law far greater than they could have known at the time. Now and always, their lives forever tangled and knotted even though it should have never been so. Now and always, they would meet again, in death they’d reunite.

_I should have died with him_ : a regret he couldn’t fix yet, but in time. Death will come and now and always would continue on. An unbreakable vow, a forever promise, a bond beyond life and death. _Now and always? Now and always._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	86. Camp [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: "why are you acting like this?" for the prompt thing!!! theon/robb? :)
> 
> Also, special thanks for tumblr user @thedragonbane for reminding me of my throbb camp counselors au- [ here](http://nolongerbugging.tumblr.com/post/153225220959/okay-but-like-camp-counselor-throbb-au-like)

Theon watched as his troop of campers set up for the night. It was the last week of camp and they were scheduled for a hike and camp out on the hilltop overlooking the lake. Theon typically enjoyed this spot. The stars were always clear and it was the only time the lake was flat like a sheet of glass, a black mirror to the night sky.

It had been his favorite camp activity when he had been a camper nearly three years ago and remained the same when he became a counselor…however, he was having a hard time enjoying it this year as he gazed across their cleared out area to a troop leader in his bright red shirt with a grey wolf howling at it.

Robb Stark: friend turned rival turned co-worker turned _something_. Where they had once been good friends- no, _best friends_ -they had somehow shifted into rivals and enemies and while, yes, Theon had missed the friendship of the only kid who’d hang out with him at camp, he was quite used to the relationship they had struck up. It was a rivalry that both troops of kids enjoyed when competing for points and during campground games and one that both counselors liked since it broke up the tension that seemed to have built between them after they had turned fourteen and Robb fucking dropped Theon for no reason. Yeah, Theon wasn’t bitter about _that_ at all…

But this summer was different. Sure, Robb had been a little poutier than usual after finding out that Theon had both his brother Bran and sister Arya in Theon’s troop, but it didn’t really explain everything else that had happened over the past month of camp.

There had been the usual nonsense they got into ever since they became counselors and their rivalry became a game for the kids: competitions in sports, minor pranks in the mess halls and bunks, playful jeers and chants messing with each troop, and even the theft of Mr. Squidward Tentacles, the Squid Kids’ mascot- fortunately he had been safely returned a few days later by a certain red head counselor who just _found_ the squid. Sure, Theon would go for it. Whatever.

It didn’t explain the downright weird behavior Robb Stark had been displaying all summer.

First of all, Theon seemed to keep running into Robb. It wasn’t that weird, to be honest. The camp grounds weren’t that big and counselors often bumped shoulders in common areas…it’s just Theon found himself seeing Robb _way_ more than usual. Secondly, Theon kept finding Robb staring at him across the field or mess hall, often to look away right after being caught. Thirdly, their troops (out of the eight different ones there) kept getting paired up for activities. In other words, they never left each other’s sight.

…There was also the way they’d talk while the kids played football or raced around the fields. The tension was still there, sure, but their conversations lost their antagonistic edge and were reminiscent of old times…times when they were just two kids who didn't have any other friends at camp and found comfort in hanging out together.

Oh and how could Theon how they kept getting locked in the mess hall every couple of nights?

Theon glanced over at two of his campers, clad in bright blue shirts with twisting squids on the front, “innocently” working on pitching their tents. Yeah, Theon was dead sure the two Starklings had something to do with his nights spend with Robb in the mess hall, although he was still having trouble proving it, but he could tell by their sly grins and giggles whenever Theon and Robb crossed ways that it was them behind the locked doors.

Theon watched as his co-counselor gather the kids to point out stars. Robb was a natural with the kids, something Theon had a hard time getting the swing of. Theon would have been jealous if there wasn’t resentment for their sudden break in friendship which led Theon to believe there were greater issues under the surface. Still, even Theon had a hard time losing focus whenever Robb went into his shpeal about the stars and the constellations and the stories behind each and every one, even if Theon had heard the same speech a thousand times over the years.

Robb hadn’t changed a whole lot from their camp days, Theon had noted early on. He had only really changed in regards to Theon. Robb still laughed at stupid jokes, still found interest in just about anything, was great with the kids, and even had the same wrinkle on his nose when he smiled.

It was irritating to Theon to know that whatever happened between them was just about Theon. Nothing else had changed for Robb except Theon so it begged the question- what did he do wrong to lose his friend? What did he do wrong to gain this new, weird relationship with Robb? And what the hell did he do this particular summer that had Robb Stark acting like an even weirder version of himself?

He knew he was going to find out. Theon was going to wait until the kids were sent to their tents to confront Stark. It had been a _long_ summer and it didn’t settle right in Theon’s chest to leave without getting answers…he had made that mistake once back when they were fourteen and he wasn’t prepared to do that shit all over again, knowing they’d both come back next year to do it all over again.

The moon was right overhead as the last of the campers zipped up their tents and Robb sat beside Theon at the dying fire. Neither spoke immediately which was already weird. Robb Stark, no matter what his relationship with Theon was, could never shut up for longer than a few minutes. Theon thought it was because Robb didn’t like the silence but clearly he was okay with it now and it was now Theon growing tense and anxious at the numbing silence between them.

“Why are you acting like this?” Theon snapped finally, the tension thick and sticking in his throat, his words coming out more like a croak.

Robb jumped and stared wide-eyed at Theon, looking more guilty than confused.

Theon sneered. Of course Stark knew he was acting weird so _why the fuck was he?_

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Robb said slowly, his face controlled perfectly. If Theon wasn’t a natural born liar himself, he would have been fooled.

“Cut the crap,” Theon grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes at the redhead. “You’re acting weird. Weirder than normal,” he amended. “It’s bothering the fuck out of me. Usually, you ignore me or at least play up this rivalry thing for the kids but this summer you’re acting like… _weird_.”

“How so?”

Theon blinked. “You know how. You are just always _there_.”

“As part of my job,” Robb said, cocking his head to the side.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t have to be beside me all the time. Not to mention you keep looking at me.” Robb looked away and Theon jumped on it. “Yeah, I see you doing it. I’m not an idiot. And don’t think I don’t know you got Arya and Bran working for you.”

At this Robb let out a weak laugh.

“What?” Theon hissed.

“If you think I have any control over what Arya and Bran do, you don’t know your ‘ _squid kids’_ all that well.”

“Don’t even mock me for ‘squid kids’ when you call your kids ‘ _wolf pups_.’” Theon rubbed his face tiredly, wanting to get back on message. “The point is you are acting _weird_ and I want to know what the hell I did this time.”

“This time?” Robb frowned, eyebrows pinched together.

This time Theon looked away, cursing his runaway mouth but not bothering to take back to words now that they were out. “Three years ago when we were fourteen…the summer before that we were best mates and then we weren’t. Figured I did something to piss you off or whatever. You wouldn’t even look at me, let alone talk to me.”

“I thought I did something,” Robb quickly said, eyes growing wider by the second.

“What?” Theon whipped his head back around to stare at Robb. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t know! I was so confused! The summer before that, before we left to go home I gave you my number so we could try and meet up but you never called! Not even once! I thought I did something to piss you off…” Robb looked at his knees. “I just figured I had upset you and you didn’t want to meet up so when we went back to camp I tried giving you space. You seemed happy too. You were friends with Bolton and-”

“Don’t even bring that up,” Theon groaned, burying his face into his knees. “Fuck, are you kidding me? You thought _I_ was mad at _you_? I worshiped the ground you walked on and would follow you anywhere. My dad is just an asshole and I couldn’t get a chance to call you. I would have if I could.”

Robb’s face burned bright red. “I didn’t know.”

“What? That my kid-self was practically in love with you?”

Theon thought it was impossible for Robb to get any redder but he proved Theon wrong immediately. “I was talking about your dad but I guess that too.”

“Yeah,” Theon shrugged, feeling slightly lighter getting that off his chest. “Well, now you know.”

“That still the case?”

Theon threw his head back laughing. “Of course, my dad’s a fucking mess. He was born an asshole and will die an asshole. It’s just his nature.”

“I meant the other thing.”

Theon glanced at Robb to see him looking at Theon with those bright blue eyes, lit by the firelight and practically glowing.

“I don’t know,” he responded truthfully.

Robb nodded his head slightly before slowly offering an “I do…did back then, still, do now.”

Theon raised an eyebrow. “You do? You did?”

Robb shrugged in a seemingly careless motion but Theon could see the tension of truth lining his back. “Why do you think my siblings have been particularly meddlesome this summer?”

“I thought it was their nature.”

“Oh, it is,” Robb laughed dryly, “but they had a goal this time and were pretty focused on making it impossible for us _not_ to run into each other every five minutes. I’m still trying to figure out how they got keys to the mess hall and where they are hiding them.”

There was so much to talk about but Theon found himself just asking the same question again. “So, you do?”

Robb shrugged. “Guess I got a thing for idiots with a love for squids.”

“Oh, I knew you had a crush on Renly Baratheon back when we were kids,” Theon teased, referencing their old camp counselor, which Robb responded with a swift, but soft punch. “Well, it’s a shame our last day in tomorrow,” Theon added more somber, looking at the sky as a weird feeling settled over him. They had finally talked but it felt like they weren’t finished, yet Theon had no idea where they’d go at this point.

“Yeah,” Robb muttered, seeming to think the same thing. “I guess we have next year to be awkward with each other, though. We can pretend this whole conversation never happen and go back to being rivals again.”

Theon nodded his head, thinking the scenario over. After a minute, he pulled out his cell phone and tossed it to Robb. “Or we could just try the number thing again. I’ll try and get it right this time. Maybe we can actually meet up without…” he gestured to the kids with a wave of his hand.

Robb gave a small grin as he typed in his number. “I think I’d like that.”

When Robb passed Theon’s phone back, Theon pocketed the phone with one hand and kept the other holding Robb’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!   
> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	87. Loyalty [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: “i don’t belong to you.” for Throbb

Okay, so maybe they were going a little too far with this, but it was for the team goddamnit. They had to make it look good.

"Damn it, Robb,” Theon snapped, his eyes lit with a fire but Robb could see him trying to hold back a smirk. “Can’t you just let it go for one damn moment?”

“Since when have you followed the rules?” Robb shot back, his own smile being forced back. “Why follow them now? Why go with _him_ just because he said so?”

“Look,” Jon tenderly stepped in, “you guys can be on the same team, it is just a-”

“Stay out of this, Snow.”

“Stay out of this, Jon.”

Okay, yes, they did practice that ahead of time, but no one else really needed to know about that.

“Look, the teams have been drawn up, that’s just how it is going to be,” Theon hissed, before muttering as loudly as he could for the whole field to hear, “God you are so fucking clingy.”

They had gone over this several times to make sure Robb’s reaction was perfect for this moment and Theon was more than pleased to see the execution was pristine.

Robb threw his head back, as if to look to the heavens for an answer _(“Theon are you sure this isn’t too much?” “Not if you sell it, baby.”),_ “Just because you have the emotional range of a dried up leaf doesn’t mean I’m clingy.”

“Really?” Theon snorted. “It’s _one fucking game_ , Stark, and you can’t even let me go?”

“We are always on the same team, that’s why!” Robb shouted back.

“Newsflash: I don’t belong to you!”

Silence echoed over the field and it took all Robb and Theon had not to burst into fits of laughter at the expression of everyone on the field. Samwell Tarley and Bran looked ready to run or hide, Pyp and Grenn were looking around for something else to do, even Sansa looked worried. That’s how they knew they had done their jobs well.

“Let’s just start the game,” Robb muttered, turning on his heel to push past Jon and head toward his group. Jon swallowed and went the opposite ways; he seemed more than convinced of Theon and Robb’s little showdown. Now it was up to Theon to sell it when in their team huddle. Robb knew he could do it. Besides, Robb had his own team to keep in mind.

“Wow,” Arya said as Robb sunk to the ground between her and Meera Reed, “don’t you think you two oversold that?”

“Too much?” Robb whispered back, worried.

“I think it was perfect!” Rickon grinned to which Gendry nodded wordlessly.

“So, what was the point of that?”Grenn asked, confused. He had originally been on Jon’s team and was forced to be swapped with Theon for this particular play to work.

“Jon and Robb have a bet going on,” Arya filled in lazily as she sunk back on the ground, “and the winner of this game gets to use the summer cabin for the long weekend next week. I reckon Jon wanted to go there with Ygritte.”

“And Greyjoy?” Grenn asked, still not quite seeing the connection.

“He’s our inside man,” Robb explained with a smirk. Dating an asshole certainly had its perks.

“Sabotage!” Rickon ghost-whispered.

“Isn’t that cheating?” Grenn asked to which Gendry, Meera, and Jon Umber all chuckled.

“You’ve played with us before. You seriously didn’t notice how Jon was cheating the whole time? How we are _all_ cheating?” Arya asked.

“It’s a thing,” Robb shrugged. “Now, team,” he gathered the attention of all players, “let’s kick Jon’s ass, alright? Remember, Sansa’s left ankle is weak and if you can get the knot out of Jon’s hair, he’ll be blind.”

Grenn, getting into the swing of things added, “Pyp panics if you rush him.”

“Shireen has a strong kick, keep the ball away from her,” Gendry tossed in.

“Don’t even worry about Jojen,” Meera smirked, “he sucks.”

“Good,” Robb grinned devilishly. He stood up with his team and they made their way toward their positions: Gendry to the goal, Meera, Grenn and Jon Umber as defenders, and Robb, Arya, and Rickon heading toward the front to meet their siblings as forwards.

“And remember,” Robb whispered to his siblings, “Double-R-ya for life.”

“Double-R-ya for life,” his siblings echoed with matching smirks.

As the three members of Double-R-ya joined the other team in the center of the backyard, Robb put on his best hurt face as Theon put on his best obstinate one. It took all Rickon and Arya had not to groan and roll their eyes.

“Alright, are the teams ready?” Bran asked with little referee whistle in hand and both yellow and red card sitting in his lap ready to go. Sam was standing beside Bran with the scoreboard ready.

“Double-R-ya is ready!” Rickon announced, locking eyes with Sansa and mouthing to his older sister ‘ _you are going down._ ’

Sansa grinned patting her two teammates on the shoulders. “Jeonsa is ready.”

Rickon looked shellshock as he stared at Robb. “ _Robb_ , their team name…it’s almost as good as ours.”

“But it isn’t,” Arya reassured, pushing the soccer ball between the two teams. “We’ll kick their butts. Beside _Jeonsa_ is stupid.” This was directed at Sansa who made an affronted choke and Jon was quick to defend their team and its name.

All the while, Theon locked his eyes dead with Robb’s, nodded toward Jon’s slightly untied shoe laces and with the grace of the asshole Theon truly was, he slide his foot over, grabbed the end of the lace and dragged it back towards himself, pulling the knot completely undone, never breaking eye contact with Robb except to throw a sly wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi [@youbuggingme on Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	88. Projecting [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Prompt: Throbb, one of them proposing to the other while drunk, please? Bonus: It would be really nice if it happens when they still aren't an item

“I can’t fucking believe it,” Theon murmured into Robb’s neck as Robb half dragged, half carried him out of the reception hall. “Loras fucking did it.”

“He’s a married man,” Robb grinned, only slightly tipsy himself but not nearly as far gone as Theon who wound up doing shots with the groom’s brother.

“Robert knows how to fucking party,” Theon remembered fondly as Robb shoved him into the passenger’s seat. “We should hang out with him more.”

“He’s my father’s childhood friend,” Robb frowned.

“Whatever,” Theon turned in his seat grumpy. “’Still be cool.”

Rather than answer, Robb closed the door to the car gently before maneuvering to the driver’s side. He had just started the car when Theon reached over and yanked on Robb’s tie.

“Where’d you get this?”

Robb blinked and looked down at the blue tie. “I don’t know? It was in my closet.”

Theon smirked, yanked it once more and settled into his seat, much like a cat curling into a pillow. “It’s ugly as fuck.”

Robb frowned and glanced down at the tie in question. “It’s not that bad.”

“You should have let me pick it for you. It’s too dark. Lighter blue would have been better. Would’ve matched your eyes.”

“Right, because that really matters.” Robb put the car in drive and pulled out of his parking spot. “I’m single so it doesn’t really matter.”

“That’s why you got to make an effort, Stark.” Theon’s hand flopped over the center console to smack Robb lightly in the chest where it stayed lazily. “’Aren’t going to get a girlfriend that way.”

“Or boyfriend,” Robb added with a tiny smile.

“Yeah, yeah, bi and proud. We get it.” Theon took his hand back. “Won’t even really matter if you aren’t even trying. No one is going to want you.”

“I think you’re projecting,” Robb hummed, not hurt at all by Theon’s comments. In this state, it was kindness butchered by years of suppressing emotions. “Usually I lose you at these things but all you did was drink with Robert Baratheon and hang out with me. Maybe it is you who isn’t really trying.”

Theon sneered, “Did you switch your major again? I swear if you are a psych major now we are no longer best friends. I don’t need you psycho-analyzing me.”

“Nope, still law,” Robb rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you even need a degree to psycho-analyze you. Kind of an open book. Beginner’s level course.”

“Only to you. You’re the only one who practically knows everything.”

“Aw, so sweet.”

“Mmm,” Theon murmured. “And I’ll be the only one if you keep dressing like a slob.”

“You sound like my mother,” Robb threw out, knowing Theon and his mother rarely saw eye to eye.

“I wouldn’t sound all superior with that one,” Theon snorted a choked laugh. “You are the definition of mama’s boy. How long was it before Cat stopped picking your clothes out for you? Oh that’s right, last year. Big ‘ol mama’s boy. Not even Rickon can snatch that title.”

“Hey! It was not last year!”

“Pfff, no lying to me. I know everything, Stark. _Everything_. Just like I know you aren’t going to get a girlfriend… _or boyfriend_ anytime soon. Not like that.”

“It’s just a tie?” Robb, stopped at the red light, looked down at this tie.

“First it’s the tie. Then it’s going to be the hair- I can already see a homeless beard in your future. Then you’ll move back home with no job, just a bunch of unfinished degrees. You can _forget_ about marriage then.”

“Ahh, so that’s what it is about.”

“I said to stop analyzing me.”

Robb pulled into their hotel’s parking lot. “Did Renly and Loras’ wedding make you think about your own wedding?”

“I am _not_ getting married,” Theon growled as he unbuckled his seatbelt and attempted to get out before the car was completely parked. Once he managed the door, Theon tumbled out.

Robb raced around the side and helped him up, slinging Theon’s arm over his shoulder. “I think it is sweet.”

“What is?” Theon muttered.

“You don’t want me to get married.”

“Did I say those fucking words?” Theon tried to back away but only stumbled and further slumped into Robb.

“Didn’t have to. Like you said, I know everything about you.”

Robb dug for the hotel key as Theon fell forward against the door. “Well, you’re wrong.”

“No I’m not.” Robb found the key and unlocked the door, leading Theon in and slamming it shut behind them. “Don’t worry, we’ll find you someone worth your time.”

“Good luck.” Theon let go of Robb and flopped onto the single bed. Hey, it was cheaper that way.

“I can manage.”

“And if you don’t,” Theon cocked an eyebrow, or at least attempted to. He was a bit distracted getting the buttons off his shirt. “What’s your contingency plan? You marry me?”

“Is that a proposal?” Robb wrinkled his nose, trying to stop from laughing. “Real shit one if that’s the case.”

Theon chuckled sleepily, his eyes closing slowly as his left his shirt half unbutton. “Only one you’ll get.”

“Ha ha. Funny.” Robb stripped his shirt and pants and landed on the bed beside Theon. “Sure, I’ll marry you if I can’t find someone else.”

“Shake on it,” Theon dared, but his eyes were closed and his words were slurred with drink and sleep.

No handshake was made but Robb turned onto his side and looked at his best mate. Marriage to Theon wouldn’t be bad. Jon already said they practically were. Robb certainly had the right feelings for that, but the rest was really up to Theon and if _his_ emotions were in the right place.

“You’d make a good husband,” Theon murmured as he turned, nuzzling his pillow. “We should date first though, hmm?”

“How about Friday?” Robb said, half serious but going along with the joke.

“Can’t,” Theon muttered. “Asha is taking me out. How about Sunday for breakfast? No, Sunday for _brunch_.”

Robb paused for a moment, trying to gage if Theon was legit or not, but he seemed to be more asleep than awake.

“Sunday for brunch,” Robb repeated with a sigh, trying not to let the disappoint of this only being a joke seep into his tone. “It’s a date.”

* * *

Robb was completely surprised but unbelievably elated when Sunday came around and Theon stood, leaning against his doorway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Come say hi [@youbuggingme on Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	89. A Feeling of Home [Rickon]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: prompt- in canon, Rickon on Skagos?
> 
> Based off [ an aesthetic I made](https://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/post/162884925055/asoiaf-aesthetics-rickon-stark-and-shaggydog-in)

"Little one," her voice cut through the howling winds whistling outside the cave, "time to check the traps." Rickon looked up just in time to see Osha toss a tarnished steel blade at his feet. "Keep an eye out there."

Rickon shuffled to his feet and stretched, taking the blade in hand. "I'm taking Shaggy."

"All the same," Osha murmured, eyeing the direwolf at Rickon's side. "One piece, both of you." She turned back to the fire, resetting the kindling then turning to the stack of furs to sew together for thicker clothing.

_Winter is coming_ , his house words whispered through his mind. Rickon slipped out of the thin cave opening with Shaggy leading the way. The wind slashed at his face and Rickon pulled his furs higher over his face. _Winter is here._

The snow had buried the typical path but Rickon and Shaggy had it memorized now. They had been in Skagos long enough now that he knew the forest like the back of his hands. It was almost a second home, but it could never replace his true home.

Still, while Skagos had been scary and new at first, it now seemed old and familiar. All it took was some quick thinking and adapting. Ducking a tree branch here, crossing a frozen stream there, quick and agile like he remembered Arya being. He couldn't remember her face but he could remember her speed, whizzing through the halls of Winterfell and racing across the practice yard between Robb, Jon, Theon, and Ser Rodrik. He wished Arya was there now to see how fast he was. He was fast than her now, he was sure of it. Maybe they could race and find out. Shaggy was the only one Rickon could race anymore. Osha preferred them to lay low all the same. Arya would have raced with him.

Four of the six traps were empty but that wasn't so unusual. Strange things happened on the island and Rickon long ago stopped questioning them. The good news was the fifth one had a rabbit and the sixth probably the same. They never caught anything bigger than a rabbit. Even Shaggy Dog rarely caught more. If he did go for anything bigger, he only came back in a mess of blood and a broken pride. Rickon could feel it, the anger and tensions Shaggy carried ever since they left Winterfell. Maester Luwin always said Shaggy had been full of rage when in Winterfell; Rickon knew now that it was nothing compared to the feelings Shaggy had on Skagos.

Rickon kneeled beside the trap and began untying the knot, slow, patient and silent. Rickon pretended to be Jon when he emptied the traps, still, silent, but ready. Jon had always been strong and patient and in moments like this, alone in the empty Skagosi forest, it helped to think Jon was with him, just in the cold empty barren area above the wall. Apart but together they were both strong united, living and fighting against the unknown.

One rabbit in hand and the trap reset, Rickon began the trek to the other. It was further up on the mountains and was a bit of a climb but climbing ran in the family. Or it did. Rickon thought of Bran more than the others. Maybe it was because Bran was the last one he saw or maybe it was because Bran was the closest to Rickon in age. They had been through so much together: the raid of Winterfell, the escape to the North, meeting the Reeds, getting to the fort...Rickon wondered sometimes if the silent crows of Skagos were really Bran watching over him. It was easier to think that was the case than the birds eyeing him for dead meat.

Rickon quickly learned that Skagos worked differently than the rest of Westeros. Everything ate anything. If Rickon was still too long, the trees would reach for him and the ground would try to swallow him. Shaggy never stayed still except for quick naps glued to Rickon's side. He knew exactly what Skagos held. More than Osha and Rickon ever would.

The sixth and final trap's rabbit was a runt. Nothing on it but mangy fur and bones. Rickon untied it and threw it to Shaggy who crunched the bones while Rickon reset the trap and gave a quick thought for better luck tomorrow.

"You got to make up for it," Rickon muttered, narrowing his eyes at Shaggy who licked his jowls with a glee on Rickon could see.

The direwolf whined but trotted off further up the mountain. Further than Rickon would be able to follow. He tightened his furs once more as the wind gave another fierce howl and began his descent back down. If there was trouble, Shaggy would be back at lightning speeds. The only people Rickon could rely on now where Shaggy and Osha and they both taught him to defend and protect himself before anyone else, a lesson he wished he never had to learn.

Despite the hard climate of Skagos, there were moments of peace between the biting winds and the rough paths. It reminded him a bit of home, in a weird way. Sometimes Rickon closed his eyes and the whistling winds were Sansa singing and there was a faint smell of lemon in the breeze freezing his nose. He remembered Sansa about as much as he remembered Arya. A rough outline with no face. A flash of red verse Arya’s flash of black, but unlike Arya, who Rickon remembered her spirit and quickness, Rickon remembered Sansa’s voice and her sweetness. She would sing in the mornings like the birds outside their windows and she would always fix the button of his cloak, no questions asked despite knowing Rickon had once again let Shaggy gnaw it off. She combed his hair with her fingers and pinched his cheeks. He missed her sweetness. It had been a while since he had any sweetness. The North and Skagos were rough, no soft edges and no songs for little fledglings.

Rickon hoped the last frozen creek as he reached the small nestled woods where their cave was hidden. Shaggy was already there waiting, jaw clenched tightly over a bloody rabbit, waiting for Rickon to come how. Rickon never realized how much of a novelty that was, to wait for someone to come home and for them to actually come back to you. Father never came back. Mother never came back. Robb never came back.

Rickon swallowed and tugged on his hood, a bit of red curl hanging in his face. Sometimes, when he laid on the cold cave floor, trying to get to sleep for a few hours, he’d look at the cave opening waiting for Robb to come in. Not King Robb, like Bran and he had last seen, but brother Robb. Sweet brother Robb who put him to bed when Mother was gone, who made sure Rickon and Shaggy Dog weren’t completely separated, who promised Bran and Rickon that he’d be back with their family right behind them. Rickon imagined Robb coming home with Theon on his left and Small Jon on his right with Sansa and Arya, Mother and Father, racing towards him and Bran. But Robb never came through the crack and Robb would never be coming home and all his promises about their family being together again and being safe in Winterfell washed away.

Shaggy nuzzled Rickon’s leg, a bit of rabbit blood getting on his trousers. It was the only comfort the beast knew how to give. Shaggy was willing to protect Rickon against any predator, big or small, but Shaggy couldn’t protect Rickon from his losses. He couldn’t protect him from the pain of losing Mother and Father and Robb. He couldn’t protect Rickon from the hurt of having to leave Bran behind. He couldn’t protect Rickon from the desperate wants of wanting to hear Sansa and Arya argue again. All Shaggy could do was stay pressed to Rickon’s side and weep the family he had also lost.

Osha had the fire ready when Rickon and Shaggy entered. She had her craving knife in hand, taking the rabbit from Shaggy’s sharp teeth. She gave each a quick look over to make sure they were in fact in one piece as she requested before beginning the work of skinning their next meal.

Rickon tossed the rabbit he had to Osha’s side before slumping into the empty nest of furs, patting the space beside him for Shaggy. He only closed his eyes once the warmth of Shaggy was against his back. It was not unlike an embrace he’d shared with his mother and father when he’d wake up from a nightmare brought on by Old Nan’s stories and he’d race to his parent’s bedchamber to climb in between them for safe. It wasn’t the same as mother’s soothing humming or father’s strong arm slung over both of them, but it was a feeling of home all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Feel free to come say hi [@youbuggingme on Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	90. Bitter Jealous [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: prompt! I need jealous!Theon
> 
> Tumblr User thoughtfulconnoisseurwolf: Robb has glasses and is practically blind as a bat without them, and one day he and Theon are lying in the same bed “platonically” while talking, but Robb is practically blind without his glasses, so Theon comes closer and closer until they inevitably kiss.

“Well, hell, Stark, you look really good today.” Loras Tyrell leaned across the bookstore counter as he handed Robb his change and purchase. “What is it?”

“New glasses?” Robb guessed, beaming and giving a tiny shrug. “’Needed a change and my old ones _broke_.” That comment was directed at Theon who rolled his eyes annoyed. Robb still wasn’t letting it go and it was an _accident_.

“These look better, _you’re welcome_ ,” Theon hissed bitterly.

Robb simply took it as the joke it was and continued making small talk with Loras as Theon frowned beside him.

Ever since Robb had gotten the new glasses just three days prior, everyone (and Theon meant _everyone_ ) suddenly was coming out of the woodwork for Robb with little heart-eyed, schoolboy-crushes. It wasn’t that Robb had been ugly in the old glasses, he was considered well-above average in the attractiveness department, but the new glasses just enhanced everything. They framed his face better and made his eyes seem bluer than usual. In all honest, it made him look a bit like Clark Kent.

Theon had helped Robb pick out the new glasses after Robb said he was just going to reorder the old ones he’d worn for the past ten years. Theon was living in a sea of regret for not letting Robb just get the same style as before because now everyone and their mother was after Robb, like it hadn’t been hard enough for Theon when Robb was one of the most well-liked people around and had an all-around great personality. Now he was even more attractive than before and it was all Theon’s fault. Only Theon could screw up so badly.

By the time Robb finally stopped chit-chatting with Loras, Theon had been stewing in self-hating regret long enough to come up with a plan. A shit plan, but a plan never the less, because the way things were going a newly single Robb was going to be swooped up by some idiot who was just now noticing Robb. Theon was not going to let that happen. Not after he had spent the last year and a half bidding his goddamn time and waiting for Robb to be single again. It was time Theon got to take _his_ shot and if this new shitty plan involved Theon _accidentally_ snapping Robb’s glasses and making him the regular above-average Robb he was before, then so be it. New, sexy, mature, intellectual Robb was attracting too much attention.

* * *

Turns out when you break someone’s glasses _one time in nearly a decade_ they suddenly become extra careful around you. Theon personally thought it was ridiculous and thought Robb was protecting himself from the wrong people. Darcy Mormont was _way_ more likely to smash Robb’s face (and glasses) with her fat ugly head trying to flirt (kiss) him and Jon Umber could easily crush Robb’s precious prescription lenses when playing football. However, whenever Theon brought this up, Robb would only laugh it off thinking it was a joke and say Theon was “overreacting”.

Like hell Theon was overreacting. Robb just couldn’t see what was right in front of him; both in the sense that he was blind as a bat without his glasses and the fact that everyone was now pining for him and he just _couldn’t see it_. In a way, Theon was rather grateful for Robb’s ignorance because that meant Theon actually had a shot. It still didn’t put him at ease with the amount of attention Robb was getting.

Jon caught onto Theon’s little ruse almost immediately and dragged Theon away by the scruff of his neck.

“Why the hell are you trying to break his glasses?” Jon sighed in a mixture of exasperation and exhaustion. “ _Again_.”

“First of all,” Theon hissed, yanking himself out of Jon’s grasp, “the first time was not my fault.”

“You _stepped_ on them!” Jon exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. In all fairness, they had this argument nearly twelve times since the glasses had broken.

“Oh and it is my fault because your idiot brother _left them on the floor?”_ Theon said. “Look, the point is, the first time was not my fault so _stop trying to blame me_.”

Jon looked ready to argue back but instead shook it aside to drill in his next point. “Fine, then why the hell are you actually trying to break them now?”

“I’m not,” he lied.

Jon just stared at Theon long and hard, waiting for Theon to confess because when you keep throwing a basketball at someone’s face as hard as you can, it is either because you hate them (which Jon absolutely knew wasn’t the case) or because you are trying to break something.

“I think they are rather ugly on him,” he said after a minute stare down.

“You picked them out,” Jon deadpanned.

“I’ve seen the error in my ways and I’m trying to correct it. I’m trying to be a good person.”

Jon was downright speechless and Theon could only give his best imitation of Robb’s “perfect son” smile.  This seemed to signal to Jon that this conversation was never going to go anywhere so he left with a final threat of, “I’m _watching_ you.”

Theon only waved him away, internally cursing that he was going to have to be sneakier.

* * *

“So tell me the truth,” Robb said, watching Theon carefully across the diner booth table. “Are my glasses ugly?”

Theon’s face didn’t change or reveal anything but instead he was already planning his perfect revenge of Jon Snow. Theon would show him what having a big mouth gets you.

“Where did you get that idea?” Theon didn’t look up at Robb, focusing his attention on stealing Robb’s fries.

“Jon’s not your greatest confidant.”

“I would never consider Snow to be my confidant in any matter, so why should you think anything I tell him is true?” Theon smirked as Robb considered this.

“So you think my glasses look good?”

“Their alright,” Theon conceded. “They’d look better on me.”

Robb rolled his eyes. “Theon, I’m serious. Please tell me you didn’t make me buy ugly glasses for some stupid vain reason.”

When Theon looked up, he could see actual self-doubt on Robb’s face as he brushed the side of the glass’s frame.

Theon gave a sigh because now he’d actually have to be a supportive human being. “They look good. I’m not _that_ cruel.”

“How good?” Robb asked and Theon could see the smile threatening to break his pout.

“On a scale of one to ten?” _A twenty-six_. “An eight.”

Robb looked pleasantly surprised by that. “An eight? That’s not bad at all.”

“No dude, I told you everything is fine. An eight is like Kyra.”

At this Robb wrinkled his nose. “Ew, Theon, come on.”

“I’m giving you a compliment!” Theon grinned. “Kyra is a solid eight.”

“Please don’t compare my glasses to your girlfriend.”

Theon rolled his eyes. “You think an eight would be _my girlfriend_? Please. You know me better than that.”

“You used to see her all the time!”

Theon waved him off. “I’ve raised my standards now.”

“Oh,” Robb smiled back finally and smacking Theon’s slithering hand away from his fries. “What’s your raised number now?”

“Like a twenty six.”

Robb threw back his head laughing and Theon couldn’t help the small, pleased smile it brought out of him.

* * *

Ever since Jon caught him, Theon had laid low on his plans for completely and utterly destroying Robb’s glasses. He still tried but his attempts were less obvious and less frequent. The hype around Robb died down quite a bit but there were still a few stranglers trying and Theon dissuaded Robb at every turn. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Robb happy, but Theon wanted his shot before everyone else and, well, he was playing a rather long, slow game. A _decade_ long, slow game.

Even with his toned back plans, Jon was still helicoptering. More times than not, Theon found Jon hanging out with them. Robb was delighted, finally thinking he could achieve his life-long dream of the three of them being a best friend trio. Theon could only see Jon as a cockblock. Both in the sense of Theon trying to break Robb’s glasses and trying to flirt with him. Jon just wouldn’t let up.

In the end, as much as Theon hated to admit it, Jon’s presence actually ended up working in his favor. As careful as Jon was being in watching Theon, he was not doing as great a job watching himself. One minute Robb had set his glasses aside to rest his eyes and the next minute they were shattered under Jon’s weight.

“Oh fuck,” Jon cursed, immediately standing up and away from the couch but the damage was done.

Theon did everything possible not to burst out into triumphant laughter. That would be tasteless.

“How bad is it?” Robb asked, holding his hands out blindly.

Jon bent over and grabbed them, handing them to Robb. “I’m so sorry. First thing tomorrow we’ll get new ones. I didn’t even notice them when I sat down and damn it, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Robb sighed tiredly. “If this is only the second time my glasses have broken in my whole seventeen years, I have to say I’m doing pretty okay.”

Robb put the glasses on and sighed. One lens was complete shattered while the other had a large crack right down the center.

“Yeah, these are completely done,” Robb grumbled.

“Don’t worry.” Theon stood up and grabbed Robb’s shoulder. “Snow is buying you new ones tomorrow and until then I’ll be your guide.” Theon leaned over to whisper into Robb’s ear. “We’ll buy the most expensive ones we can find.”

“You’ll be my sightseeing Theon?” Robb grinned weakly.

“All I’m missing is the yellow vest.”

“Oh,” Robb was full on grinning now, “that can be arranged.”

The rest of the evening resolved in a bunch of stupid jokes and Jon’s endless stream of apologies. Theon was beyond over-joyed by the turn of events and didn’t even stop himself from leaning against Robb happily and Robb certainly didn’t seem to mind, slinging him arm around Theon’s shoulders.

* * *

Having done this song and dance not even a week prior when Theon had broken Robb’s glasses the first time, Theon expertly led Robb through his nightly activities: helping him to the bathroom to brush his teeth, leading him to his closet and helping him balance while changing into his pajamas, even taking him up and down the stairs to say goodnight to his siblings and parents. The night ended with Theon guiding Robb to the bed and helping him get comfortable before scrambling to the other side.

Yes, Theon knew that for two seventeen year olds it was odd that they shared a bed, but the two of them had been sharing a bed for their entire friendship and it was their normal. There was nothing weird about it in their minds and it was completely platonic. No matter what Theon actually wanted out of his relationship with Robb, this would always be an innocent thing.

As Theon turned off the lights and curled up on his side, ready to sleep for the night, he could hear the shifting of Robb. Theon knew that when Robb shifted and tossed around in bed, it meant he was thinking. The boy slept like a rock in all conditions, unless his mind wouldn’t leave him alone.

“What is it?” Theon asked. Once Robb talked about it, he’d be sleeping soundly.

“Just thinking about tomorrow,” Robb muttered quietly. “Not sure I’m going to go for the same glasses. That’s all.”

Theon froze. This is exactly what he wanted. Robb breaking his sexy glasses and going back to his regular ones…except he didn’t think Robb would be the one to make this decision by himself. Especially with that sadden tone.

“Why?” Theon couldn’t help but ask.

He could feel more than see Robb shrug. “Why would I want to be just an eight when I could be a ten, you know?”

Theon blinked owlishly. “You aren’t seriously listening to the garbage that comes out of my mouth, are you?”

“It’s not garbage, you have good taste.” Robb shifted onto his side to face Theon.

Theon’s tongue felt heavy with guilt. “I was just messing around. You are a ten.”

“You don’t just have to say that.”

“Look, if you could actually see me right now, you’d know I’m not lying.”

In the darkness, Theon could see Robb squinting trying to see regardless. “Come closer, I’m checking. I swear, if you are messing with me I am going to punch you in the face.”

Theon wanted to laugh but instead pulled himself closer. “Can you see now?”

“It’s still a blur but I swear I see you laughing at me.” Robb pouted.

Theon came even closer. “Better?”

“I can see your eyes now,” Robb admitted. “Why do you have such pretty eyes?”

Pretty was an odd word to use but Theon couldn’t deny the lightness in his chest. “You have pretty eyes too.”

“Broken pretty eyes,” Robb muttered, leaning in closer. “Your eyes are perfect tens.”

Theon’s heart was beating so loudly in his chest he could hear it ringing in his eyes. He hoped Robb’s ears were just has shitty as his eyes. Whatever they had been talking about before had all faded away as the air shifted and they laid face to face only mere inches apart, silently watching each other.

“Theon?”

 “Hmm?” Theon responded quietly, afraid of what would happen if he broke the tension.

“You’re still kind of blurry,” he whispered.

Theon didn’t speak immediately, instead moving even closer until their chests were nearly touching and Theon could see Robb’s breath on his cheek.

“Better?”

“Almost,” Robb said, so quietly it almost wasn’t even there.

With only an inch apart, Theon could see the only way to see closer was to close that distance.

“Are you sure?”

“I got to see if I’m right about something.”

Despite Theon’s usual bravo and confidence, this kiss was soft and timid. Barely a brushing of lips until Theon could feel Robb’s warm hands on his back, dragging him closer and the two just melted together.

When the two finally pulled a part, they didn’t move away, just resting against each other.

“Were you right?” Theon asked.

“Delightfully so,” Robb hummed, his face pressed into Theon’s neck.

“Good,” Theon pulled away just enough to look into Robb’s eyes. “I have to tell you the truth. I lied.”

Robb raised a worried eyebrow. “Are you about to tell me I looked hideous in those glasses because if that’s the case-”

“No, no,” Theon quickly silenced him with a small kiss on the lips. “Remember when I said those glasses made you an eight?”

Robb narrowed his eyes. “Yes…”

“Triple that number and add two.”

It was too late in the night for any math but it wasn’t that late to stop kissing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Prompts are closed so please do not send many more! I will fill out the ones I've received both on here and on Tumblr, thank you! :)
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


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